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Winter of the White Wolf
Chapter 45 - Failsafe
"So I remember this one time," Sam began, "Where this guy in a black cat suit showed up and chased down a ghost I'd been tracking for the better part of two years."
Sam lay on a stretcher, staring up at the ornate ceiling of T'Challa's jet, which he was betting was the Wakandan version of Air Force One by the look of it. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the man in question, who'd made it a point to step beside the hovering stretcher so Sam didn't have to do so much as lean his head to see him.
"And I said to myself: 'Brother must like cats.' Granted: It didn't make a whole lot more sense when I found out he's the King of Wakanda. But you know what? It's not altogether too much of a stretch considering the motley crew I know. Once you meet someone who claims they're the literal god of thunder, it has a way of adjusting your expectations."
He continued, "Somewhere along the way, probably between when Steve broke me out of The Raft and when a bunch of wizards practiced synchronized sparkler yoga with their hands, I had a moment to consider, 'You know, I don't think there are any hard feelings between T'Challa and I for what went down at the airport in Germany, but one of these days, it might be nice to just… have a chat. Clear the air. Make sure everything's cool between us. Because it seems like there hasn't been a single time we've crossed paths that wasn't either somber or a wild brawl that included an optional invitation for extraterrestrial life."
Sam sighed, "I actually thought I'd somehow managed to earn myself enough sweet, Southern karma to smoothly dodge any and all of that this time, but I definitely didn't see this bit with Barnes coming."
A warm, understanding smile settled over T'Challa's face, "It is not the reunion I had anticipated either, but I'm relieved you are mostly in one piece." T'Challa's eyes lowered to take inventory of Sam's hands, and it was clear his attention was focused on Sam alone, which was saying a lot after the mess left behind in the wake of the day's events, but there was still daylight left to burn. "How are you holding up, my friend?"
Sam took a deep breath, "Not great, but better since that nerve-blocker Yama gave me. My head's killing me, but I'm not sure how much of that's credit to the physical trauma, and what part is, well: everything else. Am I going to be able to keep my hands? Have I seen my last days of active duty? Oh. And you know, all the other stuff. Like that part where someone who's my Partner but also not my Partner is off earning some merit badge in the woods." He sighed, "Even though I know people are watching out for him, and he's not just bleeding out, I can't help but feel like an utter asshole for abandoning him back there."
T'Challa's voice was soft and compassionate, "You did not abandon him."
"I mean, the logical part of me knows that." Sam reasoned out-loud, "But the same part of me is also pretty sure he's half-expecting me to get a two-for-one deal and get my hands and such tended to and a HYDRA special on everything else." He turned his head to regard the man beside him seriously, "You could see it too, couldn't you? He was terrified, or something close."
T'Challa inclined his head, "I could. But I don't think understanding was so close in coming to him that your treatment should have been delayed, even for such a noble cause."
Sam sighed again, looking back up at the geometric shapes sprawled across the ceiling like a glorified Wakandan fresco, "Yep. Logic me knows. But I still feel like an asshole." He adjusted his shoulders, "Have you seen stuff like this before. Firsthand, I mean?"
"Rarely," the man beside him admitted. "My sister and the others often worked away from curious eyes for their own protection, but there was a time or two when it was prudent to make myself available." He inclined his head to Okoye in the front of the ship, "That is not to imply that our esteemed Dora Milaje are not fully capable of handling such matters themselves."
Okoye saw fit to interject, "Capable? Certainly. But you have not had to suffer one of his meddlesome bites."
Sam blinked at that, "Wait. Literally?" Now that was one hell of a mental image that made the phantoms where his hands were supposed to be spring to life in shared sympathy.
"When pressed, the Soldier fought dirty." Okoye's voice was straightforward, but not unpleasant, as if she was recounting a memory from far enough back that the sting wasn't so bright, "Like a cornered crocodile. When he realized our garb was reinforced with vibranium weave, he chose to evolve his tactics."
T'Challa made an expression with his face then. It wasn't a smile, but a close cousin of it, "The two of you share a common experience."
Okoye waved a hand in his direction, "I did not see you try to handle him without gloves, my King."
T'Challa's expression evolved into a sincere smile as he turned his attention back to Sam, "I'm certain my sister will be able to aid your injuries." Sam wasn't sure what expression he had on his face, but apparently the concern was enough for T'Challa to add, "Our techniques are quite advanced. You could be in no better hands, and Barnes as well."
"How long do these 'Events' usually last?" Sam saw fit to ask, but the resulting shift in the other man's expression was… not necessarily encouraging.
"Shuri would know far better than I," he admitted, "but what little I overheard, I do not think this instance presents itself like others we've seen, which is troubling, but not necessarily cause for alarm."
"My hands would claim otherwise," Sam casually observed, digging for a spot of humor to lighten the worries brewing inside him and the host of 'What Ifs…?' circling his periphery like swarms of gulls around a bread-fisted child at the beach. "He use that name before around you? Just 'Barnes?'"
T'Challa considered the question a moment, and then shook his head, "No. That was new. As was his desire to flee and willingness to put aside his life for another."
His calm observation had a way of making Sam more worried rather than less.
Before Sam could wrap his mind around what casual topics of conversation might be suitable for the King of Wakanda and its highest-ranking General, their ship had already landed, and he found himself being pushed out the open hatch into the warm midday air.
He was aware of the King's Guard falling into place somewhere behind T'Challa and Okoye, but none of them said a word as they strode purposefully back towards the Design Center with Okoye leading the way. The silence was unnerving, especially because he got the distinct impression he was missing some sizable context for why no one was seeing fit to communicate with one-another, but for a brief moment, he allowed himself to just gaze up at the crystal blue sky and its cotton ball clouds, and try to imagine the possibility that this might work out okay. That the fears festering inside of him were each and all as overblown as the next. That maybe even now, Barnes was getting that awful foot of his tended to, and after he caught a quick cat-nap, he'd wake up fully himself and "Bucky" again.
Now the fantasy of that passing thought wasn't without its merits. But it wasn't close to a storybook ending either, because he'd hurt a lot of people, some of them pretty badly, and as far as Sam knew: they still didn't have a clue exactly what'd happened or why, so what was there to stop it from happening again? Even if "Bucky" magically reappeared, it wasn't as if they could just go on with their lives and pretend it never happened.
Somewhere more complicated still, he found himself wondering: 'And what about Barnes?'
All of it just made Sam's head hurt more.
There were certainly eyes on them as they made their way deeper into the Design Center, and Sam didn't miss that the density of Doras was noticeably higher than he last recalled. While pairs of them returned T'Challa's two-arm salute as they walked, Sam had to wonder if they were stationed along the main hallways as a reaction to what had happened, or if there were once plans in-place to bring the Soldier back through the same hallways. By force if necessary.
Sam found he wasn't inclined to ask.
He assumed they were heading directly to Shuri's Lab deep underground, so he was surprised when a scientist prematurely halted their progress and casually directed them to a nearby room on the left. The glass-walled room didn't offer much in the way of privacy, but Sam had to guess by the vials and test-tubes organized along the rear wall, it was normally used as a chemical processing lab rather than a makeshift waiting room.
T'Challa directed the King's Guard to remain stationed outside the small room, but no sooner had the first scientist repositioned the bed so his head was flush against the far wall, did a man in a matching white lab coat and bright orange slacks roll in what he assumed was a medical saline bag and approach the side of his stretcher to start an IV in the crook of his elbow. His questions for Sam were simple and straightforward, prompting a short medical briefing that was probably the most altogether normal thing he'd experienced today outside of lunch.
As the scientist was getting the line drawn, T'Challa stepped to the far side of their glass-lined waiting room so he could get a better look at the bustling world just outside. Sam didn't miss how the King's face took on a new appearance: One that was stricken with solemn responsibility. No one said a word until the medical assistant had completed his work and the room was theirs alone.
"Ayo thinks they will be out of surgery soon," Okoye spoke from somewhere to Sam's left, but there was a heaviness in her tone that implied it wasn't the whole story.
"I take it my sister hasn't shown interest in further delegating responsibilities?"
"Your words, not mine," Okoye cooly replied, returning her attention to the Kimoyo Beads on her wrist. "While she did not volunteer it, Ayo admitted she thinks Shuri slept only hours last night. Perhaps three or less. She pushes herself too hard."
Sam didn't miss T'Challa's sigh, "She wishes to rest only after she finds solutions. But I will speak with her. That does not mean I can make her listen," he clarified.
"She would not be your sister otherwise," Okoye observed before adding, "M'yra's family will be arriving within the half-hour. They have been alerted to what has happened. It would be good form to make ourselves available when they land."
T'Challa nodded in agreement, and while Sam felt like a third wheel to their conversation, he couldn't help himself from fearing the worst as he found himself asking, "...Was that one of the Doras from the Propulsion Laboratory?"
In response, T'Challa glanced to Okoye, and she lifted her chin in the direction of Shuri's lab, as if indicating the direction of it, "Yes," Okoye responded, "M'yra was head of that department's security detail. Shuri remains confident that in time she will walk, but she will not be able to return to her previous role." Okoye's tone was conclusive, and while Sam was relieved to hear she'd survived, it didn't take Sam more than a few more seconds to figure out what else remained unsaid.
Out in the glass-lined hallway, two scientists and two Doras he recognized from the laboratory walked alongside a floating medical transport bed. Their signature spears were nowhere to be seen, but the Doras appeared to be taking turns speaking to one another as well as the bald-headed figure in the bed. Sam couldn't make out what any of them were saying, but if he had to guess by their expressions, a somber veil of loss hung over them.
He didn't see it at first, but as they passed, he got a crisp, clear view of the patient - of M'yra, he corrected himself, promising himself that was a name he would commit to memory - as well as the horrific reality that her right shoulder was absent most of an arm.
Sam would never know what prompted her to lean her head so their eyes met, but he wasn't sure what more he could do once they connected other than to not look away.
He owed her that, at least.
If he'd been in the hallway, he wanted to think he would have had something to say to her, but he wasn't sure where he'd even start. He simply watched helplessly as M'yra broke contact and turned her attention back to her companions. As the procession glided down the hallway and disappeared around the far corner, Sam tried to do everything he could not to think of his own ailing body and broken hands, and what could or would be.
God.
For all he knew, she might've saved his life. And what'd she get as a reward for a job well-done but a lifetime of pain, and a premature end to her career?
He was betting they didn't make a Wakandan Hallmark card that near-enough got the sympathies he was feeling across.
"...Fuck…" he heard himself mutter out loud before being reminded of the company he was in.
Neither T'Challa or Okoye said anything as they waited in a pervasive, shared silence, letting their own thoughts remain unspoken.
Sam wasn't sure how long they waited for their summons, but as soon as a bead along Okoye's wrist began to blink blue, they were spurned to motion again.
Sam didn't miss the fact that T'Challa bid the King's Guard to remain in the hallway as he was pushed into Shuri's lab. The scientists within must have also been asked to vacate the room, because they stepped past him on their way out, making only fleeting eye contact with him as they did. If Sam had to guess: It wasn't every day that T'Challa made an appearance in that skin-tight combat suit of his to have a private audience with his sister over a mangled figure that certain paparazzi might consider an international celebrity even if Sam himself didn't.
The first thing Sam noticed was that Shuri's lab smelled different. The air was laced with chemical astringents and a poignant smell of metal and rust that he immediately identified as blood.
In theory, it was the same lab, but there were more tools and machines he couldn't identify sprawled over tabletops and on small mobile tables that made the room feel more than a little like an abandoned trauma ward.
Once his view was uninhibited, Sam first caught sight of Ayo, and then Shuri herself. He was relieved to see both of them were okay, though strangely: the princess was still wearing that same black, purple, and gold black panther-inspired suit as he'd last seen her atop Mount Bashenga. Now that he had a chance to get a better look at it outside of being forcibly dragged as a full-body shield by a half-amnesiatic maniac, Sam had to admit that the suit had a certain sense of personal style that was very fitting for Shuri, all things considered. The top-most section encircling her neck and resting over her shoulders like an armored mantle was embellished in rich purple and gold geometric patterns that undeniably lit-up as they moved in tandem. As she moved, the subtle purple lighting moved in-kind like the fabric itself was alive.
Sam was pretty sure he qualified as having at least two major head-injuries when all that went down topside, but he still didn't have much of a clue on how she'd managed to swap-out outfits in the span of half a second or so.
Probably a question best suited for another time.
"Sam!" Shuri rushed up to greet him, and for a moment, it looked as if she considered hugging him until her keen eyes fell over the multitude of injuries visible across his darkened skin. To say she looked exhausted would have been an immense understatement. Her normally well-kept hair was assembled atop her head in a bun encircled with a braid that, judging from the loose strands, had clearly seen better days, "I'm so relieved you're okay!"
"It's good to see you too," T'Challa remarked, his voice alit with a light sibling playfulness Sam instantly recognized, but had never heard firsthand between them. T'Challa took a few steps to stand at the foot of Sam's stretcher, leaving room so Shuri could see to her newest patient.
Sam didn't miss the significant regard he appeared to give her matching suit.
The corner of Shuri's mouth quirked in a smile as she leaned forward to clasp her brother's hand before they mirrored each other's movements in a sibling salute that ended with her waving off the King of Wakanda as a second thought, "You look well and did not arrive by way of a stretcher," Shuri observed, "So we will speak after I see to our guest, brother."
Something in the directness of Shuri's tone reminded Sam more than a little bit of Sarah, and the pleasant familiarity between the two of them was strangely comforting to his own frail frayed nerves, "I'm thrilled to see you too," Sam admitted, "My hands have seen better days, though..."
Shuri got right to business inspecting them. "Yama already sent me the initial scans she took. Do not look so worried!. There is much we can do to repair your injuries. You can rest easy now." She gently touched his shoulder, as if driving the sincerity of her statement home. Her surprisingly casual tone and those simple words had a way of making him able to breathe again, "I will need to cut loose your shirt to work, though."
"Of course I just had to go and wear one of my good shirts today," Sam half-jokingly complained as Shuri stepped away to locate a set of scissors that looked so fancy they probably had a patent out on them.
"This qualifies as a good shirt?" the princess saw fit to remark as she gently cut away pieces of the bloodied red fabric so she could access the injuries hidden beneath, "I would not have known unless you'd said something."
"Suddenly everyone's a fashion critic."
"It seems you may require more than simply my expert medical care," Shuri casually observed as she pulled up a palm-sized holographic display and shrugged lightly, "If you wished to seek my design services as well, you need only have asked."
Sam snorted and found himself smiling a little beside himself.
"Do you wish for me to explain what I am doing as I work? I can proceed more quickly if I do not," the cat-suited genius offered as she rolled a cascade of everchanging holographic displays over her fingertips.
"You go ahead and do your thing. I could barely keep up with half of your tech-talk before the head injuries," Sam admitted.
"Half is perhaps generous," Shuri calmly observed, but her expression was playful.
God. It was nice to be around people with bonafide expressions again. Add to that, Shuri's calm confidence had a way of making him feel like he could spare a moment to breathe.
Just a little.
The table itself helped prop his torso up just enough that Shuri could discard the last remnants of what had once been a form-fitting red shirt, and the brief change in elevation offered him a momentary glimpse at the damage hidden under the shirt. The area along the sides of his ribcage were badly bruised, but if he had to guess: the internal organs tucked-away inside were holding up thanks in-part to the fact that Barnes had chosen to take the brunt of that nasty multi-story drop into the Propulsion Laboratory. The center of his chest was bruised as well, and it took him a moment to piece together when that might've happened along the way. Maybe when Barnes was pushing against his hands? He wasn't sure, but it wouldn't have surprised him if his sternum was cracked.
His hands… yeah, he didn't much want to look at those dark, misshapen paws any longer than he needed to. He couldn't imagine a world where they'd be remotely functional, but if Shuri was seeing fit to tease him even a little bit, he had to imagine she wasn't planning any surprise amputations while he wasn't looking. Her IQ might be more than a few clicks above his own, but he didn't take her for a sadist.
Shuri noticed him taking inventory, "Would you like a mirror so you can see around your neck and face?"
He considered it a moment, because damned if he wasn't curious, but he was also pretty sure whatever he saw wasn't going to make him feel any better, "Nah. Not sure if dental is part of the all-inclusive package, but if it is, make sure to keep the little gap in the front there. It's a bonafide beauty mark. Family heirloom."
He couldn't see Shuri's face from where he was lying like the ever-obedient patient he was, but he heard her chuckle from somewhere behind him before she lowered him flat again and rolled over a piece of equipment that looked like a miniaturized, mobile MRI machine. After positioning the opening so that it hung vertically, she ushered it around the middle of the stretcher so that it hovered in place over his hands.
"Does everything here hover?"
"Not everything, but we use maglev technology where it is sensible. Now remain still within the portable regeneration cradle," Shuri offered as explanation as the frame expanded another six inches and something that looked like blue and orange lasers began to emanate from moving nodules inside the archway, "It's a synthetic organics replication and printing assemblage that utilizes nanomolecular functionality and attachment processes."
Whatever expression Sam had plastered over his face must have been enough to prompt Ayo to offer, "It will reassemble first the bones within your hands, then everything else. Like a reverse three-dimensional printer, only starting work internally."
"Such primitive terminology," Shuri bemoaned.
Sam watched as focused beams of what looked like light, but he was certain were far more than that ran over his ailing hands in small, repeated patterns. He had to imagine the nerve-blocker Yama had given him constituted step one of whatever this was, but the creepiest part about it? As the machine worked, he could visibly see the bones shift under the skin. It was like seeing a candle melt in reverse, and every part of his brain was screaming at him that whatever was happening should have been incredibly painful, but instead: he couldn't feel anything at all.
He figured this was as good a time as any to ask, "...So I get to keep the hands?"
"Yes," Shuri confirmed as if that much was obvious, "And if I've done my job properly, in a matter of days, you will hardly know they were damaged at all."
Now that claim was more than a little difficult to believe, but you know what? After the day Sam had, he was just fine being proven wrong with a nice glass of optimism.
"You don't even need to set the pantone or anything?" He was only half-joking. He had to imagine Shuri's machines were more versatile than the boxes of frightfully tan-colored Band-aids he had stashed back home and in his med kit.
"My machines will automatically adjust by taking into account the melanin and blood flow of surrounding tissue, and mathematically accounting for subtle color changes due to underlying injury, bruising, hematomas, and established aesthetics." She made a gesture with her own hand as if driving home her point, "We would not want to mistakenly assume that the skin on the inside of your palms and fingers should match with that on the back of your hand. And when we get to it, yes: your teeth will match one another too. And I will mind that gap you treasure."
When it was clear Shuri'd finished setting up the machine and had moved her focus to inspect the injuries along Sam's face and neck, T'Challa casually extended a hand in her direction, "Speaking of vibranium and its many uses, when were you going to tell me about your own fashion developments, little sister?"
"I thought it prudent to have a defensive suit, as you do," Shuri casually shrugged, but Sam didn't miss the fact that she was trying to play it off, "I had not considered that it might be wise to stash a spare set of clothes about as a contingency in case I needed to use it, however. But do not give me that dour expression of yours. I am well, and can take care of myself. You need not be envious that the nanites I programmed for my own suit have more style than your own. I can modify yours if you wish to emulate it, but you would need to ask nicely."
T'Challa smiled from the foot of Sam's bed, but moments later, some of the warmth fell out of his eyes as he changed topics, "Okoye and I will meet with M'yra's family once they arrive so you can continue seeing to Sam, and researching what has happened. Do make certain you get some sleep tonight, little sister. I know these matters are pressing, but you cannot be at your best if you continue to push yourself so."
Shuri dipped her head in polite agreement, but it was Okoye that spoke next. The General's voice was direct as she addressed Ayo, "Kutheni ungakhange ubuye umxhome izixhobo xa sele ubonile ukuba lijoni livela-?"
T'Challa politely cut her off, "In English. This is no time for secrets among us."
Okoye made what Sam clearly read as a dissatisfied face as she eyed him before repeating her question for Ayo, "Why did you not disarm him once you first saw the Soldier emerge?"
Ayo turned her attention to Okoye, and Sam became aware in that moment that the same steadfast Ayo he'd gotten to know over the last couple days had a very particular tone when she was addressing her superior, "I tried, General, but he anticipated the disabling move."
Okoye made a face at this claim, confused, "How could that be? The whole point of the failsafe was for it to remain secret. If he did not know about it, then he could also not anticipate it. It was a private contingency we agreed upon when White Wolf first showed interest in having a new arm grafted to him."
And then… there was a deep, heavy, strained silence that pervaded the room. One where everyone turned their attention squarely to Ayo, as if she might supply a viable answer.
As they did, Ayo glanced to Shuri, and Sam caught the flicker of guilt on her features as he realized the precise piece Okoye was apparently missing.
"In Latvia," Ayo began, her normally steady voice laden with measured pauses as she carefully chose her words, "When we came to collect Zemo. James briefly took up arms against us and… in a moment of passion, I chose to use the failsafe against him."
Sam felt like he'd heard silence before, but he felt like this time, he could have heard a pin drop from half a mile away. His whole body tensed, as if anticipating what might come next. "We-" he began in Ayo's defense, but that was as far as he got, because Okoye cut him off with an abrupt motion of her hand, as if his words were of no interest to her.
"You used it against him?" Okoye began. She hadn't moved, hadn't flourished her spear, even raised her voice, yet the intensity in her was unmistakable, "Not the Soldier, but James?" There was a decided emphasis in that last part. "You feared for your life, or that of your Lieutenants?"
"No, General," Ayo admitted. And Sam had to give her credit: Ayo was downright terrifying when she was angry, and seeing that same fierce woman visibly squirm under Okoye's intense gaze was… it was something profoundly uncomfortable. Enough so that Sam felt bad for her, especially since he'd had a firsthand glimpse at the long laundry list of reasons she'd been so upset. And back then: he hadn't even known Bucky and Ayo'd been close, or that he'd ghosted all the Wakandans in that room as well as this one. Sam just knew they'd gone and broken Zemo out of jail, the very same Zemo that had murdered their previous king, so it had come as no surprise the Wakandans were pissed.
"I have no defense for my actions," Ayo continued, "My temper was inflamed and I chose poorly."
The room grew deathly quiet again, and Sam was pretty sure Okoye was going to say something more, but instead she just let her disappointment lay bare in her expression. Her lips tightened as she finally chose the words she wished to speak, "He came to Wakanda to heal, after so many years of being used as a weapon for others. It was at our request that we bid him to take up arms and fight on our behalf even though his graft was raw and still fresh."
Sam honestly didn't pretend to know Okoye well at all, but there was something in her tone that struck him in a very particular way. It reminded him of how soldiers spoke of other veterans with a pointed understanding and sympathy regarding what they'd been through. The horrors they'd seen. Sam hadn't thought to consider what Okoye specifically thought of Bucky, but it was clear that she thought Ayo had crossed a very specific line that wasn't up for debate.
Ayo's eyes darted to either side, as if she'd preferred this conversation to be had without an audience, but when she spoke next, her voice was softer, "I was angry, General. About Zemo and his disregard. About how his actions failed to represent Wakanda. I was emboldened by the assumption that our time dealing with the Soldier was over, and because he never presented as being able to remember recent events. But all of that is no excuse. I take full responsibility for my actions, as well as my choice not to inform you of what transpired."
"I was not there to see what you saw," Okoye clarified, her voice steady and pointed, but without the palpable heat of threat, "And I understand and share a great deal of your anger, Zemo chief among them, but I want to make clear: the failsafe was not implemented so that you might briefly reprimand another for injustices you felt, but as a life-saving device. You let emotion blind you to the possible consequences of your actions, which meant we could not quell him here before he injured those around him." Okoye shook her head, driving her point home, "I am relieved none joined the ancestors today, but lives like that of M'yra will remain forever changed. I know you wish his actions to better represent Wakanda, but that is a decision for him to make, not you."
"Yes, General," Ayo responded with a voice far more tempered than Sam was used to hearing from her. He didn't miss how she favored her right leg as she shifted her weight.
Sam looked over and in that moment, he honestly felt bad for Ayo. It was clear she already held herself responsible for some portion of what had happened, but Sam hadn't stopped to consider that maybe the whole point of the failsafe, of specifically not telling Bucky about the failsafe, wasn't because they didn't trust him, but because they wanted to maintain a contingency against the Soldier.
That put things in… quite a different light.
"The blame should not be solely with Ayo," Shuri stepped in, "I knew. We discussed it, and I should have been more prepared. I did not anticipate such a reaction to what should have been a benign procedure."
T'Challa spoke up, "It is not the time to lay down blame at one-another's feet. The act of making mistakes is human. While it is worthwhile to acknowledge a mistake has been made, what we do now matters far more. A great many things have happened, and we are not beyond them yet." He glanced to Okoye to ensure she had said what she felt necessary to air before continuing. After she inclined her head, T'Challa went back to addressing his sister, "What of Barnes? Do you have any leads on what happened or how we can right it?"
Shuri frowned apologetically, "I wish I could offer you more, brother, but I still do not know. Once I am clear again to focus on such matters, I am hopeful to have more answers, but I do not feel that my theories as they stand deserve air without further research."
As Shuri worked to peel away the bandage over Sam's nose so she could determine her next steps, T'Challa casually observed, "Perhaps my genius sister might consider leaning on her skilled team and not insisting on trying to solve all the world's problems herself."
The immediate reaction Shuri sent his way was one only a sibling could manage towards the ruler of arguably the most powerful country of the world, but Shuri managed it with practiced skill, "I will consider it, my King."
"Oh stop it," A faint smile edged the corner of T'Challa's face, "I know you are capable. But it is not weakness to lean on others for their talents. Especially when so much is at risk."
Shuri's face twisted at that, "I have maintained my promise to be discreet with his private information."
T'Challa inclined his head, acknowledging her concern, "New eyes will be on what happened here today. I do not know if discrecion will continue to serve us as it once has. But I understand the difficulty you face when he is not fully present to offer you clear permission. I trust the decision you come to will be the right one."
"I said I will consider it," Shuri repeated, though Sam was certain her response was non-committal, and by the way her eyes shifted to look at his own, Sam felt pretty sure she planned to talk over the possibility with him at some point.
"My King," Okoye interrupted, "M'yra's family has arrived."
T'Challa nodded, turning to address Shuri and Ayo, "We will talk soon," he placed both hands over his chest to salute Ayo, and she promptly returned the gesture. The king turned his attention to Sam, and for a fleeting moment, he was reminded that this man was nearly his own age, and unlike him: He had an entire country to run, "Rest well, my friend. My sister will make sure that Captain America mends well."
"Thanks," Sam replied, and as T'Challa and Okoye turned to go, he added, "T'Challa?"
The king turned around to face him, "Yes?"
"I don't know what the protocol is here, but… if it seems appropriate, can you let M'yra know I'm sorry for what happened? If she doesn't want to see me or speak with me, I totally understand, but I'm just glad she's alright."
T'Challa inclined his head, "I will let her know, but hopefully when you are well, you can tell her yourself."
And with that, Sam watched them go as they stepped out of Shuri's Lab and the King's Guard fell into place beside them.
Once Ayo saw the glass door close behind them, Shuri saw fit to turn her attention to guard and state for the record, "Do not blame yourself for what has happened. We have both made oversights and regrets that have contributed to things spiraling as they did."
Ayo lifted her head to her charge, and though she found no judgement there, she still felt immense shame for her actions. They did not take Shuri unaware, for the two of them had discussed what had happened in Latvia in detail, as well as what to do in its aftermath.
The princess had been certain their time dealing with the Soldier was well behind them, and that in the fleeting chance such a thing was ever seen again: The failsafe was still secret from him. For if he could not even parse the Wakandan he learned in the years after HYDRA, how could he know of such a hidden contingency? They had spoken briefly that this change in circumstance might require another approach, but more robust options like a remote kill switch or release felt… not only more dehumanizing, but potentially subject to interference from others with ill intentions.
Ayo had many things she wished to say to Shuri, but all felt insufficient. She'd thought better of herself, and while she did not think what she had chosen to do was a valorous act, it did feel righteous in the moment.
She regretted it now, certainly, but in a different way and for a different reason than she had minutes after their confrontation in Latvia. Justified as she felt in the wake of her actions then, seeing the betrayal raw upon James's face had not made her feel as she wished it might. It made her sick to her stomach, because above all else: he did not understand her actions. His eyes did not reach the pain and betrayal she felt simmering in her own.
He only saw trust break before him.
"For what it's worth," Sam offered from his place on the examination table nearby, "I think Bucky assumed that failsafe was put there because you didn't trust him. Prolly worth clarifying that wasn't the intent. Well, when…" his voice faded off.
Ayo said nothing only because she did not disagree, but she turned her attention from Sam to Shuri and her attempts to diffuse the significant bruising and swelling around Sam's face and neck.
"I think there's a fair chance," Sam added, "wherever, whenever 'Barnes' is coming from, that he might not even know who Zemo is. The last time I think he remembered confronting me was when I was shooting at him back on the helicarrier in 2014, or shortly after. So that whole relatively-recent Zemo-slash-arm topic might not only be water under the bridge for the time being, because, well, if you look at it a certain way, this guy never broke Zemo out of jail or anything else."
Ayo raised an eyebrow in his direction as she cooly observed, "You are quick to try to garner sympathy for someone who freely injured you."
Sam snorted, "Fair, but… you also didn't see him." He frowned, chewing his lip, "It's hard to explain, and I was there. But… I think there was a lot more going on under the surface than he was letting on. Once you got past the obvious, I mean. Yama-," he cut himself short and glanced to Shuri.
"Yama…?" Shuri prompted, curious as she multitasked.
"She said it would be best to ask once I got treatment," Sam admitted.
Shuri inclined her head, acknowledging the machinery surrounding his hands aand torso, "And here you are. Receiving treatment. You are breaking no promises."
Ayo watched Sam as he nervously swallowed and chose his words carefully, "She said something about seeing the scans from when Bucky first arrived in Wakanda. That it would help me understand why Barnes asked me about expressions, and why apparently Bucky used to ask her about it as well."
Ayo immediately knew why Yama had mentioned the scans, but her eyes pivoted to Shuri to see the princess's own reaction. It had been years since such matters were openly discussed, and only a select few had any idea of the sheer depravity James had been subjected to under HYDRA's cruel and merciless hands.
"Barnes asked about expressions?" Shuri asked for clarification, her voice slow and steady.
"Yeah," Sam said, "...both of you are giving me near-to the same look Yama gave me when I asked. I feel like I'm missing something here. Something important."
Shuri glanced to Ayo, a question in her eyes. It was one that sought Ayo's agreement before either would continue on this gruesome topic. Ayo could only speak of what she saw, "Before we took scans yesterday, James said that Sam was to be trusted as well. He would not fault us for being forthright with him, even about such a sensitive topic."
"More sensitive than the brain scans?" Sam asked, genuinely confused.
For just a moment, Ayo considered stepping in so that he might be spared from the awful truth she'd once been equally oblivious to as well.
"No," Shuri apologized for them both, "the very same."
Sam felt like he'd seen enough in the last twenty-four hours and change that nothing could surprise him. Maybe not even phase him.
He was wrong.
In one smooth motion, Shuri rolled her hand across a display that projected a 3D hologram of a scan of some of Bucky's old biometric data. The read-out displayed the outline of his head and upper-torso, including what looked like a torn-off version of his signature chrome arm. The view was semi-transparent, showing his skeleton, brain, and nervous system, as well as the strange, interweaving ways in which his original prosthetic had been brutally grafted onto him.
"This was one of the early scans I showed you yesterday, but not the earliest we have on-file."
"Okay…" Sam said, clearly not grasping what she was getting at, but feeling tension rise up in him all the same.
Shuri glanced once to Ayo before she continued, "The earliest scans, show what lay beneath."
Before Sam even had so much as a moment to deliberate on what that particular Wakandan riddle could mean, the scan updated in real-time, revealing an outline matching the prior one, but with added details that immediately stood out like a slick of bright paint on white carpet.
The taste of bile rapidly rose up his throat as he looked at a scan, not just any scan, but a scan of Bucky, his Partner, his friend, and a display that showed at least a dozen pieces of what looked to be metal nails, driven directly into his skull, and deep into his brain.
Sam was sure his mouth tried to form words. It had to, but all he found himself able to do was stare in wide-eyed, utter horror at what he was seeing before him.
"He was fully conscious when those who called themselves scientists drilled his skull and drove spines into it," Shuri supplied, her voice suddenly stripped of any of her signature humor, "What you see here was how he came to us, but there were many more scars hidden beneath of experiments tried and abandoned over the years."
"They did that to him? Kept him like that?" Sam felt his voice breaking. The man he'd fought, back there on the highway, on the helicarriers… the same man that had been on the run for two years and later fought against and beside… had nails driven into his goddamn brain the whole time?
…
...
...Holy...
…
Shit!
"They offered him no anesthesia. No painkillers nor sedatives when they did their cruel surgeries. And though they knew how, they chose not do so much as to disable his pain receptors. What they did instead, once their snare was set, was to offer him only temporary relief from the pain as long as he remained compliant. Through drugs, through electrical stimulation. It ensured that once a mission was complete, he would be compelled to return to them, you see."
Sam found he couldn't look away from the scan rotating around in front of him. That was probably good, because he wasn't sure if he managed to, if he'd be capable of holding himself together.
"But the underlying purpose of the pins and nails was so they could direct electricity to specific cortical neurons. It isolated critical parts of the nervous system and the brain so that they could attempt to modify his behavior, suppress his long or short-term memories, obscure facial recognition and emotions, and…" she faded off momentarily before she found her voice again, "make him compliant. A slave of his own mind. Living either in a waking dream state, or as fractured pieces to be manipulated whole and reset as they saw fit."
Sam was subtly aware when Shuri stopped talking and turned her attention back on him, but whatever words he had were trapped somewhere in the back of his throat.
The man he knew, even the one he glimpsed today, had spent over seventy years with all of that in him. With not only the constant, agonizing pain of all those wires, screws, and metal snarls brutally attaching his prosthetic arm to what remained of his left shoulder.
But his head.
They'd put fucking nails in his head.
How could anyone live, no less function with that?
Shuri saw fit to continue, her voice raw, as if she was having difficulty speaking, "He was no more than an ongoing project for them. A thing to perfect to their merciless ideals. What they could not modify through torture, behavior and suggestive electrical therapies alone, they did under the knife. And what they could not do under that, they took by force, stripping away even his ability to read the faces on those around him until they were no more than baseline facts to him: A nose. A mouth. Teeth. Eyes. They wanted to ensure he would remain compliant, forced to use HYDRA's own as a translator for the world around him they themselves made him unable to properly parse or understand. For if he could not tell a smile from a grimace: he would not know to question his mission objectives, but he also could not seek out kindness in those that might have otherwise aided him."
Sam remembered Yama's anger, as well as her words: 'It was an act of suppressing the potential for many things, chief among them: compassion.'
Ayo was next to speak, her rhythmic voice low, heavy, twinged with a hint of a feral snarl that felt surprisingly appropriate for the plethora of emotions swirling themselves around Sam's stomach and up his throat, "They are not the first men to do cruelties to others in the hollow name of science. But were it not for my own oaths, I would have personally hunted them down for what they did. Each and every last one of them."
Sam was certain he wasn't imagining things when he caught that darkness in her expression. He recognized it pure as anything: the intensity of someone who had spent more than one night awake, questioning where their code ended and how that balanced out with the primal desire for revenge. In this case: revenge on Bucky's behalf.
He didn't know why, but he'd always assumed the people that had done this to him were all... long-dead and buried. That what he'd been subjected to in the 1940s was… it. But if they'd continued working on him, perhaps even up-until the point he'd escaped in 2014… did that mean some of them were still around?
Did Bucky…?
Had Bucky…?
Could he even recognize them, and if he did…?
No wonder he'd been so unilaterally intent to crack the case with the Flag Smashers, no matter the personal cost. He hadn't wanted anyone to suffer the same fate. And it wasn't like Sam's broad understanding on what it meant to be a "brainwashed assassin working for HYDRA" was kind, but it certainly wasn't this.
"Did he tell anyone?" Sam found himself asking, "About the nails? Did Steve know?"
Shuri shook her head, "We discussed it. At length," she added, "But James felt it would raise too many questions. Put focus on things he did not wish to be focused on. That it would flavor the relationships around him and draw pity towards him in a time where all he wanted to do was to move forward."
Ayo saw fit to add, "It is easy for us to have empathy for his plight because we know him. We have seen him at his best. But if this was your first knowledge of someone," she gestured a hand at the scans, "would you be inclined to trust them? To trust the health of their mind?"
Sam had to admit that... she had a point. If their own government had seen this floating horror show he was looking at right now, they probably would have thrown him in a maximum security prison and thrown out the key without a second thought.
And maybe even that particular outlook was being generous.
"But you both did," Sam observed. "Trusted him, I mean. I saw some of the videos people left for him during the Decimation. There were some kids there too. You didn't worry…?"
Shuri shrugged her shoulders, "It is human to worry. But it is wisdom to know when and how much. James himself was no threat to us. That is why it was easy for us to help him." Her expression softened, "Did he ever tell you the tale of the Battle for Mount Bashenga and his role in it?" She glanced over to Ayo, "I think that is when you first began to grow deeper sympathy for him, did you not?"
If Sam had to guess, Ayo was still off in whatever dark place the sight of those scans sent her to, but she did not debate Shuri's claim.
Shuri turned her attention back to Sam, "It would be a long tale, but barely a week after his arrival in Wakanda, an outsider attempted to overthrow the throne and incite a civil war."
"You say that… rather casually," Sam observed.
Shuri waved a hand and then settled back to working on addressing one of Sam's orbital bones as she spoke, "You know we are well so I do not need draw out the particulars as a skilled storyteller might. The important part is that James had spent nearly all of the week in cryo, as I was still working on the best method to address his troublesome programming and many injuries, including those protruding into his skull. But when we thought my brother was lost to us in a challenge, the outsider that challenged him briefly took the throne, forcing myself, Queen mother, Nakia, and allies like Everett Ross to flee and take refuge so as to not become casualties of war."
"Wait, Everett Ross as in 'Deputy Task Force Commander' Everett Ross? From Berlin?" Sam felt like he had a whole lot of additional follow-up questions popping up all of a sudden.
The princess dismissed his question, "Air Force. CIA. All one in the same, not my point." She got the conversation back on track, "But when some among us realized James would be at risk as well, they rallied in secret to ensure his survival and ferried him far away from the Design Center where he would be safe from strife."
She tilted her chin up at Sam, "So. This icy-cold man. A stranger to our country who did not speak any of our languages and did not know more than a handful of our names. He who could barely tell one Dora from the next. Someone who did not have access to proper painkillers because he had not yet confessed to us how deeply he'd relied on them for so long. What do you think he did?
Sam felt the rhetorical in her question, and he he was almost surprised when Ayo's voice stepped in to answer and continue the story.
"Though he was instructed to stay put. Repeatedly," she emphasized, "Once his body could move and he learned of what had happened, he saw the silhouette of the Design Center far in the distance, and the stubborn man with one arm walked. On foot. Barefoot. Countless miles towards us. He did not understand what had happened: only that he might help if he reached us, even if the cost was likely to be his own life. And when he did, late as he was to the fight that was not his to wage, I did not need to question if a man like him, with nails driven through him could still know true compassion after all that was done to him. For I saw firsthand the man beneath: The one that was clearly worth saving."
Ayo regarded Sam, and he was relieved to see some amount of warmth return to her features, as if the story itself had reignited her conviction. She added thoughtfully, "I wonder if today, you glimpsed an echo of him as well. That barefoot, sunburnt, one-armed man, shambling up the mountain to see how he might help."
"Or perhaps," the woman before him reconsidered, "Who first arrived in Wakanda was in some way an echo of the man you met today, this 'Barnes.' Either way, I find myself compelled to know him."
And Sam, confused and overwhelmed as he was by everything around him: was inclined to agree.
Shuri supposed she should know how much time had passed. It wouldn't be all that difficult to pull up the logs, but what point was there other than to be reminded how artificially long the day felt, and how the worries of the morning were now only amplified exponentially?
She was finding it increasingly challenging to multitask when she'd finally asked Ayo to inquire if the café was open again so she might order a flavored espresso drink to help keep her alert. The last part she didn't speak out loud, but she was certain Ayo knew the purpose to her request. While it was arguably beneath the Chief of Wakanda's station to fetch the princess caffeine, it was accepted protocol that the Doras were to be mindful of how food and drink were treated to ensure it wasn't tainted.
So while the request itself wasn't out of the ordinary, Ayo's response was not entirely… enthusiastic. But over the last hour or so, she'd managed to pry herself away from whatever dark thoughts she still carried for those that had done atrocities to White Wolf.
"Your veins are more espresso than blood, I think," she with her 'Ibhondi Yomgcini' casually responded from where she stood guard a few steps away, "You will not be able to sleep if you continue to use caffeine as a substitute for rest."
Shuri may have made a face as she ran a reconstruction device over Sam's face and watched him struggle to remain still while he visibly kept tabs on the conversation, "Did my brother command it of you?"
"No," Ayo admitted, "but such a command would carry sizable wisdom. I will see to ferrying your awful, syruppy order if that is what you wish, but do not think I did not notice how your hands have begun to tremble."
"Fine fine, then arrange something you think offers more benefits if you must be so rebellious and unnecessarily picky."
Ayo appeared satisfied by that response and turned her attention to Sam, "And you?"
Sam looked down at his hands as he took in the implications of the question, "I'm guessing utensils are out of the question, and with all respect: I think my ego's taken enough hits today that I don't want to find out what the Wakandan version of playing 'airplane' to feed me would look like, so… some type of smoothie maybe? Bonus points if there's OJ in it."
Shuri smiled, speaking to Ayo, "Ask Bosana if he might have a bendy straw for Captain America. If he doesn't, I'm sure I can fashion one."
Before Sam could see fit to interject anything to defend his solemn honor, Ayo'd already lifted her wrist, no-doubt to connect herself to either the cafe or one of the nearby Doras in the complex, but her expression shifted to something downright perplexed as she did, "Shuri?" she said simply, summoning the princess's attention.
Once she had Sam and Shuri's attention, her fingers alit over the holographic HUD overlay of her Kimoyo Beads and pulled up what looked to be a still photo.
It took Shuri a moment to process what she was seeing.
The background was dirt and grass, and along the top of the horizontal photo was a foot that was wrapped in gauze dressing that tapered off into a hairy ankle surrounded by a rolled cuff of a bloodied pant-leg. On the lower half of the frame, two split-toed boots were visible, clad in a Dora's unmistakable protective leather.
"...Wait," Sam was the first to speak, "They didn't…"
"Yama?" Shuri's question was for Ayo.
"Yama and Nomble," Ayo clarified.
Shuri had seen many things today, but this was not one she was expecting, "...Bucky?" she inquired.
Ayo shook her head, though her expression carried confusion evident in it as well, "No. Barnes. Yama says they have earned his name now as well. She asks we send a photo of Sam and only Sam to prove we are tending to him and he is well."
"They went inside the shield?" Shuri pressed for clarification with a voice that was not exactly meek, "With him. They could have been taken hostage or injured!"
Ayo only rolled her shoulders, though Shuri was certain Ayo looked pleased with herself, "I do not have any control over what my Lieutenants do when they are off-duty, my princess."
Shuri sent Ayo what she hoped was a significant look, but turned her attention back to Sam, pulling up a recording HUD and stepping in front of him, "Try to make a smile. I will tell Yama to let him know what that expression means if he does not know. Let him learn it from you."
Sam looked as though he wasn't exactly sure what to say to that, but he did his best to shift his bruised and still misshapen face into what Shuri thought resembled something like a smile, "Did you already take it?" Sam asked, "Did I look at the right spot? Is it the bead there or…?"
"Your smile is good," Shuri reassured him, spinning the digital photograph around so he could see it before she transferred it to Ayo, "the face, we will work on."
Sam cringed and quickly waved it away, "Yeah. Glad someone wants to see that. You are not sending that to Sarah, just so we're clear."
Shuri smiled and Ayo added, "It is sent. Yama wonders if you have any words for Barnes, Sam?"
While Sam deliberated on the question, Shuri kept her gaze focused on Ayo. She knew her guard well-enough to know this day had not been kind to her either, and that a request for Sam's reassurance, while not a slight, was no-doubt hard for to bear after all the trials she and White Wolf had been through together. She hid it well, but Shuri could read the sentiment clear in her eyes, and that silent worry that this complex situation they found themselves in may have no easy solution.
"Just tell him I'm getting treatment and he should try to rest up and eat, if he hasn't already," he turned his attention to Ayo, "You should go see him. It'd give me peace of mind if you were out there too," Sam visibly backpedaled, remembering the unseen hierarchy surrounding them, "I mean. I don't know how this guard stuff works. You can ignore what I said if it's out of line-"
Before Ayo could object, Shuri spoke up, "It is a wise idea."
"Shuri…" Ayo began in her critical tone.
"It would seem logical to me," Shuri calmly observed, "that Wakanda's Chief of Security would see herself inclined to guard someone who has been troublesome quarry, don't you think? Especially when her unique bond is so suited to help in the wake of Events." Shuri inclined her head to her frowning compatriot, "We are fine here. We are not without your Doras and I will call two in so you may seek out dinner before you visit with our friend."
When Ayo looked as if she was still inclined to object, Shuri added more softly, "It would do my heart good to know you were out there with them as well."
Ayo considered her words before she boldly inquired, "And you will get some rest in my absence? More than last night?"
Sam's eyes darted between them, clearly trying to gauge his role in the ongoing debate between two of Wakanda's elite.
Shuri was not certain she wished to make sure promises, but she decided it was a reasonable request under the circumstances, "Yes yes," She turned her attention to Sam, "You are likely to be here at least a day or two, would you permit Ayo to arrange for some of your things to be brought over from the Diplomatic Quarters?"
"Yeah, sure. Maybe there's even a shirt there that's up to your refined standards."
"Doubtful," Shuri admitted aloud, though she felt her smile slip as she glanced to Ayo and held her gaze.
Ayo was skillful at hiding how she felt, but it was easy for Shuri to see the distress across her friend's face plain as a Baobab on the horizon. They were both of them troubled, entrenched with guilt and concern for an uncertain future, and yet there were no simple words that could be a magic salve and wash them all away. They were both too old to believe in the simplicity of fairytales and the guarantee of happy endings.
Science was a powerful marvel to be wielded, but the human mind? For as much as they understood, there was just as much, if not more they did not. The path before them was new and frightfully unknown, and in that moment, Shuri kept her eyes to Ayo as if to speak without words that she did not suffer alone in her fears. That they could be strong, would be strong together.
"I will arrange it," Ayo promised her, "along with the orders from the cafe or elsewhere if it is still closed. And you are to let me know when you choose to rest, for we will need your keen mind tomorrow if we are to solve the riddle surrounding us."
Shuri considered making light of the sheer impropriety of Ayo's request, but even in jest and good humor, she felt it unnecessary considering the day and long hours they had walked together, "I will as long as you do as well," Shuri countered, crossing her arms in what she hoped was a suitably impressive power pose.
That got the faintest smile out of Ayo, "You might want to ask your brother for some lessons if you intend to try to intimidate anyone with that suit of yours, especially me." Ayo stepped beside Sam and hesitated a moment before she rested a hand gently on his shoulder.
Shuri knew that Ayo was not one who hugged, and the mere fact she'd taken her eyes off her charge long enough to seek out connection with Sam was a profound gesture, "I will keep watch over this Barnes so you can focus on healing."
"Thanks," Sam intoned as he looked up at her, "There's no one else I'd rather have out there with him. I'm sure you'll be able to get through to him too. Just… take it at his pace. Nice and slow. I'm sure he'll come around."
Ayo offered him the smallest of smiles, and Shuri knew her well enough to know that Ayo wished to believe with the same conviction Sam did before her.
Once Ayo departed and had ushered two Doras to step inside to take over her guard from a distance, Sam turned his attention back to Shuri as she suspended yet another device over his nose. He knew his face was still far from how it should be, but the fact his eyelids weren't as swollen and he could see just a hint of his nose was encouraging.
Also these Wakandan pain-inhibitors? Utterly surreal.
Somewhere along the way, Shuri'd removed the IV from the inside of his elbow and out of habit, Sam chanced a glance to the watch around his wrist, frowning when he was reminded Buck-Barnes had shattered the dome of it.
Now that it was in the light, he could tell the damage was more substantial. He realized this wasn't the time to get all weepy about a family heirloom, but the sight of it cracked and broken like that, especially how it's happened, had a way of making the day feel even worse. But before he could allow his thoughts to slip any further, he reminded himself that unlike some people: he could still walk, and still had both hands. He wasn't about to start a pity-party over a watch.
"This may sound like a ridiculous question, but what time of day is it now anyway? ….It is still the same day, right?" He added, because for a moment there, he wasn't sure.
Shuri smiled, looking up at a nearby display for reference, "It is still the afternoon, not even four o'clock, though it feels much later, does it not?"
"Yeah," Sam admitted, "I feel like I could sleep for days after all this. Was sort of expecting an interrogation over what happened back there, then for you to slip me into a coma for a week, if not longer."
"I can work on you just fine while you are conscious. It makes the time go by more quickly, besides." The genius working over him then waved a hand towards his watch, "I can fix it, you know. But I would assume you would prefer that task after the more pressing ones."
Sam was sure he probably made a face at that, "Really? Well. Yeah, that'd be great." He paused remembering, "Shit, I didn't even think about my phone. Did Barnes manage to hit you with that, by the way?"
"It struck Ayo, but on her armor. But we are both fine," Shuri insisted, "Your phone, however…"
"Yeah, guessing I should have taken out the optional insurance package."
"I can make you another," Shuri said as casually as if she'd offered him a glass of water. "If you utilized a cloud backup, I could simply download it onto a new device of your choosing."
"...Wait," Sam half-sputtered, "you use the same carriers here? AT&T, T-Mobile, Verizon, that sort of thing?"
Shuri gave him a quizzical look, "...You are being serious."
"I thought I was?"
"I am wounded that you would continue to desire their services in preference to my own."
Yeah, okay. The more time Sam spent around Shuri, the more he could imagine why she and Buck apparently got along so well, "That's an option?"
"That is most certainly an option. A superior option."
"...Is the coverage good outside of Wakanda?"
And then Shuri laughed. A genuine, heartfelt sound so utterly pure and sincere that Sam actually found him smiling too, "My friend. You do realize the communicator I gave you to use in the Battle for Earth had unlimited range, and that we maintain an entire global network of satellites."
"But you don't have commercials," Sam pressed, but at this point he was just teasing while he absorbed that information. "Wait though, unlimited range?"
"Unlimited," Shuri confirmed, "And that includes those communication devices within your suit and drones."
Sam blinked at that, but before he could say anything more, Shuri added, "...You did go through the onboard tutorials I included, right?"
"...If I say I'm partway through, are you going to take away my flight privileges?"
Shuri dramatically rolled her eyes, "This is what I get for having White Wolf deliver it to you rather than seeing to it myself. When you are again well, we will go over it in detail. I did not go through the efforts to design and test that suit only for it to be conscripted for media events and other banal purposes."
He paused, "Wait, test?"
Shuri glanced hsi way, though he didn't miss the devilish smile spring to life across her features, "Did you think I would hand off a suit to the new Captain America without ensuring it was properly tested?"
"Wait…. You….?" Sam was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open at what he was hearing.
"Well, not the fabrics of your form-fitted suit," she clarified, "But the harness. You would very much have liked to see Ayo's enthusiasm for its maiden flight. I have little skill with such things, but enough to make her squirm."
Sam snorted lightly, "Well, if you're convinced these injuries aren't going to ground me, yeah, I'd love to get the end-to-end, firsthand tour one of these days when things aren't so. Well..." He watched her plug a command into the holographic HUD overlay floating above his right hand before he remembered, "Oh! Rhodey called both our phones. Buck's, then mine."
Shuri quirked her head at that, "When? During…?"
"Yep, during the impromptu hostage run. I don't think he realized anything was up, but he was getting in touch to let us know the UN's officially asking for some outside help concerning the situation in Symkaria now. They authorized getting Bucky involved since they suspect a Super Soldier might be responsible for the hits, but they also wanted to see if I wanted to join in too."
"That is… complicated," Shuri admitted, "Would you like me to reach out to him or connect you in a private channel?"
Sam flinched, "I don't like it, but it would probably be for the best. On one hand, I don't really want word about Bucky getting out, but I trust Rhodes, and if there's anyone that can run interference on our behalf while we get stuff sorted: he can."
He paused for a moment, deliberating, "You know what was weird though? After Rhodey hung up, Barnes asked me about it. Symkaria, I mean. It's a bit of a blur, but I think he wanted to know what we were after. It was probably one of the first times we had something I'd consider half a conversation, but he seemed genuinely curious. Not like, threatening to kill me or maim me, borderline murderous, either. But I have no idea why. Bucky, as in our Bucky, didn't seem to remember much of anything about Symkaria once we were boots on the ground back before we hopped a flight to Wakanda, but I almost got the impression Barnes did. Is that more or less weird than anything else going on today?"
Shuri chewed on his words for a moment, "After we first met up, I did a thorough search through both his logs and my notes regarding Symkaria and its cities, and there there was remarkably little to be found. It could be he passed through during his years with HYDRA, but I would think that if it was of note, it would have come up at some point. Still," she considered aloud, "I agree it is strange."
Sam could tell by how her posture changed that this wasn't a thought she was seeing fit to freely discard, so he continued, "I didn't get to ask him much about it, and honestly? At the time I think he was completely convinced I was a HYDRA agent, so I'm not sure if he would have told me anything anyway, but… I mean, it could be nothing. We both know he was active all over the globe."
"It could be nothing, or it could be something," Shuri admitted, "But it is good you told me. Perhaps if he continues to be agreeable, we can see if he is willing to share more of what he knows. It's unlikely that it would relate to your own case, but now I am curious as well, as it might relate to other things we have learned over the years."
Sam nodded, "Speaking of which… do you think you could cover for me with Sarah? Maybe just text her and pass along word our cell phones got damaged or something but that Buck and I are doing just fine?"
Shuri completely stopped what she was doing to regard him then, and it was only after she met his eyes that he realized he'd factually asked the Princess of Wakanda to lie to his only sister.
The expression on her face didn't carry the disappointment or rebuke he'd been half-expecting for a moment there, but she did incline her head to him, "If that is what you wish, I will do it, but… I have to wonder if in seeking to protect your own sister from harsh truths, if you are only putting distance between yourself and someone who would understand and support you if given the opportunity to sympathize with you when times are not so easy." Shuri shrugged her shoulders pointedly, "But what would I know? It is not as if I have a brother who can be frustratingly secretive as well."
Sam honestly hadn't given a moment's thought to how Shuri might be able to relate to Sarah's position, but her remarks had a way of giving him more than a little pause, "I just don't want her to worry, you know?"
"She will worry regardless of how much or little you tell her," Shuri observed. "She survived the Decimation, yes? Do you not think she might prefer more truths rather than less?" The princess stepped to one side and casually leaned against whatever the cradle was called that was helping to mend his hands from the inside out, "We are both different people who have lived remarkably different lives, but I do know a thing or two about worrying for a brother who challenges my patience to find new and creative ways to get into trouble. But I cannot help him if he leaves me in the dark. Yes, it helps that I am able to fabricate devices for him and those in his employ, but the times between us I cherish most are the quiet moments. The ones like this now, where he can let himself be seen by someone he trusts as human and vulnerable as all of those around us."
She continued, "And if my own brother was injured in a foreign land, it would do me good to know he was okay, and that though I might not be empowered to help, that it was important to let me know. Not because he wished to cause me worry and distress, but because he preferred truths, and perhaps my words and silent prayers could be of some comfort to him."
"I see what you're getting at," Sam admitted, "But Sarah and I have just… never been really open about my work stuff. Especially now."
Shuri shrugged, "The past, and ways of the past do not have to define your relationships in the present. They are up to you to shape and mold to suit you, not the other way around."
Sam was certain he made a face at that, "In general, yeah, okay, but… with what's going on with Bucky…"
"It makes it ever-more important for you to confide your worries in someone that knows you so well," Shuri reasoned, and Sam couldn't necessarily argue with that.
"Okay," Sam acquiesced, "Message received."
Shuri simply smiled as she continued to plug away at her work, "We have a few hours yet of progress I want to see to before nightfall when I will set the overnight runtime programs. I intend to do my best and keep to the promise I gave to Ayo, about getting some rest tonight, but you will need to put up with me, because I have no intention of leaving you alone."
"Shuri…" Sam began, but the resounding smile on Shuri's face was rock-solid, and it was clear her decision had already been made.
"As I told you: If my own brother was injured in a foreign land, I would want to know he was receiving adequate care, and that he was not simply left to languish in boredom and isolation overnight. Therefore: I shall remain here." She raised her chin, "And there is really nothing you can do, so you might as well grow accustomed to my insistence on your care."
"Thanks," he offered. "Really. For the obvious, as well as the sibling pep-talk."
"Of course," Shuri smiled back, turning her head toward the warm, shifting daylight visible through the exterior-facing windows, "Though I still wish we could both be present for Barnes as well. I know he is in good company, but it is strange to picture them out with him in the woods rather than safe here in my lab."
"Is there a chance things could work themselves out overnight?" Sam wondered aloud.
"Anything is possible, but I would be surprised if things were so simple. Even so: We need to understand what has happened and why so we know it cannot happen again." The genius princess sighed, and Sam caught her face fall before she added, "Without any code words to aid us, I do not know how we might return him to himself."
She must have caught something in his expression, because the next thing he knew, she was asking him, "What is that you worry for? Was it something in my words?"
"I don't know, Shuri," Sam admitted, meeting her eyes, "I know you haven't, well, spent much time around Barnes, but I can't help but worry he's not going to want any part in whatever we have planned. And strange as it may sound: I'm not sure if it's right for us to force him. In fact: I'm pretty sure it probably isn't. And that just makes me worried for where it leaves us, and that the "Bucky" we know might be lost for good."
He wanted to believe things would work themselves out, but Shuri didn't say anything more as she stood next to him and slowly rested her hand on his shoulder. While her gesture was one of shared solidarity, her expression remained cast with palpable, profound worry, and that uncertainty was hard for Sam to drink in when he knew that she was one of the greatest minds Wakanda had to offer.
I had the immense pleasure of working with Haflacky on a piece of art she created to go along with a scene from this chapter. Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and link to her Twitter to see more of her incredible art!
And *huge* thanks to her for bringing this particular moment to life!
Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"
As this story has somehow come to take on a life of its own, I thought it might be fun to assemble all of the visual art surrounding it in one convenient location. So this week, I put together a Winter of the White Wolf - Art Collection on Ao3!
My intent is to keep it updated with art that relates to specific story chapters as well as general art or pieces that don't closely fit into any particular chapter.
I'm hoping this will not only help promote these incredible artists, but also give me an excuse to go back and slip in some all-new art for specific scenes that I really want to illustrate... _
In any case, if you dig art, you might want to consider bookmarking or subscribing to that particular Art Collection on Ao3 so you can see *all* the goodies going forward.
[Photo of me and a "Falcon and the Winter Soldier" shield on Ao3]
Right around the time "The Falcon And The Winter Soldier" came out (March of this year), I started on an unassuming quest to try and reevaluate various aspects of my life and put more focus and decided effort into the ones that meant the most to me.
Along the way, I re-ignited having an even more healthy relationship with my parrot, started to better balance out some of my creative pursuits in art and writing, dove deep into some new, immensely fulfilling friendships, and started a fitness journey that have all made an immense impact on my life. I'm down about 20 pounds, up muscle, and am in the best shape of my adult life.
I can't begin to thank everyone that has cheered me on as I decided I wanted to redefine my own limits and aim myself towards lasting changes.
Also mental health is SO important! Not only have my friends and family been incredible allies, but my nutritional therapist and personal trainer have helped immeasurably to ensure I was taking a safe and whole picture approach. I'm really proud of how far I've come, and-that I've been able to continue to make purposeful headway.
I hope you have been able to grasp some of your own goals with both hands: It's never too late!
Likewise: I just wanted to take a moment to let all of you know how much this fan fiction community means to me. Your continued comments and support have made a difference in my life, and I can't thank you enough for that. Truly.
Author's Remarks:
* Ibhondi Yomgcini - Wakandan Translation: Bodyguard's Bond
Regarding M'yra - I have not yet read any comics she features in, but when I was researching names for the Dora in the Propulsion Laboratory, I happened over a short blurb about her in the comics and realized just how… hauntingly appropriate an injury like losing one's arm might weave its way into this particular story. Suffice to say: It's not the last we've seen of her.
I remember reading a Tumblr post about Okoye that really resonated with me and my impression of her, and I wanted to share it here: [Tumblr Link on Ao3]
While Okoye and Ayo are both soldiers, I felt like it was important to really hone-in on some of the differences between them. Was Okoye utterly disappointed to hear what Bucky did regarding Zemo? Absolutely, and without question. But in her mind, the failsafe was specifically put in place for the Soldier or an otherwise life-threatening situation. It's important for her to make clear to Ayo that what she did was not done with that sentiment in mind. But hey? It's almost like different people can have different ideas of what constitutes right and wrong in certain situations…
That said: Please enjoy my head-canon for the reasoning behind the failsafe in the arm.
This chapter covered… a lot… and ended up being a great deal longer than I originally planned, but it was nice to get scenes with certain characters interacting that we haven't been privy to previously.
Sam learning about the nails was…. Rough. Just to realize how long they were there, too…
I enjoyed trying to reach into the past to consider, "Hey. When did Ayo specifically start to genuinely warm to Bucky and his plight as a person?" and it felt appropriate to wrap that up in a head-canon "offscreen" moment from Black Panther after Nomble, Yama, and Tasdi had gotten Bucky to "safety" and shortly thereafter… he turned right back around, because he wanted to make sure everyone was okay. My heart!
I enjoyed having space for Sam and Shuri to talk about their siblings. While these two haven't interacted in the MCU to-date, I love the idea of them having their own sort of share bonds.
The comments regarding the little gap between Sam's teeth were prompted by a comment GrannyUnicorn once made. :) Thank you for that!
I enjoyed interjecting little bits of humor where it felt appropriate in this chapter, and Shuri's comment about requesting a bendy-straw for Captain America… gives me life.
As always, thank you so much for the comments, questions, discussions, kudos, and kind words of support. It means *so* much and helps keep me energized for this writing adventure and the journey ahead of us.