We've been building to this for a while here, but like Shuri, I wanted to take a moment to drink in the view before we get down to business.
Somewhere along the way, I realized that while I've described the vista out across the mountaintops numerous times, it would be a travesty and personal failing to not try my hand at actually painting what I've imagined in my mind's eye. That sentiment to capture a very particular moment turned into a labor of love, and a heck of a lot more work hours than I'd originally planned, but I'm extremely proud of the result. :) It was immensely rewarding to try and capture the opening scene in both prose and paint.
Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art!
Simply search for: "KLeCrone Ao3 Winter of the White Wolf"
Winter of the White Wolf
Chapter 68 - Cascades
Chapter Summary:
High out in the Wakandan mountains, Shuri gathers herself to share a number of critical updates concerning the stability of Barnes's mind, and what that might mean for his uncertain future and the days ahead…
Every waking minute of Shuri's youth was lush with structure and activities. Her days and nights were filled to the brim with possibilities, and a limitless drive to seek, explore, and understand. While her playmates played make-believe and practiced what doubled for poor penmanship, Shuri taught herself to code. When they learned the basics of arithmetic, she worked to build her own formulas to better encapsulate and define the vibrant, ever-complex world she saw around her.
So it was that her childhood was anything but bereft of lessons, regardless of if certain ones ran contrary to her own stubborn will.
It was not as if she was opposed to learning – clearly not – but so often what she was tasked with memorizing and putting into practice were mundane exercises that pulled her away from far more enticing interests in the sciences, technology, or even fashion and design. A seemingly limitless list of topics existed that could hold her interest with far more pull than the bits and pieces that were deemed 'required education' simply because she happened to grow up in a royal household.
Lessons in proper nutrition and even the chore of her strict fitness and training regimens were to be expected, and you asked her? She tolerated such instruction with admirable grace. It was all the other blathering subjects that bored her. They felt more akin to mindless trials of rote memorization that lacked substance. So much needless attention was paid to the careful structure laid at the feet of time-honed ceremonies and traditions. What to wear. When to speak. What to speak. She understood the importance of protocol, but so much of it was weighed down with unnecessary embellishment. Empty words and flourishes of action simply meant to take up space between the bits that served actual purpose, of which there was often very little. Sometimes it drove her mad to feign interest in such things, when the greater part of her insisted her mere presence to them was only borne out of the expectations others put upon her.
So, she'd quickly learned how to put on a good performance so she could more quickly be excused to return to things that actually interested her.
Even when she was very young, Shuri could effortlessly discuss any of the vast catalogue of topics that captivated her. There was always more to learn. Diverse theories and discoveries wrapped amid a seemingly endless number of threads that connected to yet more pools of sprawling, enticing knowledge. But even when she was no taller than her Baba's knee, her family had already begun to recognize her bright mind and its untold possibilities.
They made it a point to teach her that though others might struggle to grasp the same complex concepts that she took to like a lilac-breasted roller weaving in the wind, that at the crux of it all, technology served no purpose in isolation. That even if she found certain interactions to be draining or a downright bore, it was important to remember that people mattered. It was why they did the work they did. And why she should aspire to find value in them too, even the ones with interests and personalities that were so very different from her own.
And so, she'd been coaxed to learn the resounding value of being truly present and engaged while listening. That breaks in conversation were not simply there so she could interject her latest thoughts. Sometimes, they were keystone moments where others should be encouraged to contribute their unique voices and perspectives too.
And like so many things, it'd taken time and purposeful patience for her to understand and respect the underlying value of her parents' lessons. But over the years, her growing responsibilities had prompted her to sharpen not only her social graces, but to fine-tune how best to lead conversations in a variety of topics to ensure they were palatable to diverse minds.
Baba had once told her that above all else, it was key that your message was clear in its intent, that the minutiae and embellishments were only to be present if the circumstance called for it.
"Do not seek a needless flourish of words if brevity would better serve the moment," he'd once told her. "You are strong, smart. You will find your way to say what you need to in your own voice, in your own time."
Oh, how she missed him. He was not a perfect man, but he was a good father. A good leader. And how she wished he were closer, so she could seek his counsel and advice on this and so much more. Yet deep in her chest, Shuri knew that now was not the time to wade through the reeds and ebbing waters of grief, but to instead focus on how best to share difficult news that unfortunately came with more questions than answers.
Shuri did not think it cowardice that she chose to linger on the stairs leading down from the Royal Talon for longer than was necessary. It gave her time to take a few more long sips of her flavored espresso and collect her thoughts in preparation for the conversation that was hers to lead. But that being as it was, she also chose to ground herself in the calm of the moment, to appreciate the warm morning air dancing over her face and across her scalp, where it teased the strands of springy hair that'd managed to escape the makeshift pair of buns on the back of her head.
The morning was clear and bright, and their chosen camp was high enough up in the mountains that she could see out over the treetops and across the river to the grandeur of Warrior Falls in the distance. She'd seen the natural wonder of Wakanda many times from the air and close-up on Challenge Day, but it had a different weight from this vantage point. Warm sunlight spilled out between the painterly strokes of clouds overhead, illuminating a series of towering waterfalls with so much color, it was as if they were connecting pools of liquid gold. At its core, the view was peaceful, serene, yet even now, Shuri could clearly recall the violence she'd witnessed firsthand.
And with it: the precise moment when she thought she'd lost her brother over the edge of the precipice forever.
She didn't try to do it. It was pure reflex. But even though she willed herself not to look for it, she could make out the precise set of falls where it'd happened. Where the raw wail of her mother's scream filled her mind and clutched at her throat.
Shuri did what she could to shake off the terror of that poignant memory, reminding herself that her brother had survived. That he was well. And she did what she could to pull herself away from the past and refocus her attention on the group of people gathered across the makeshift campsite from her.
But Shuri also hadn't expected to step back out into the morning air and be met with the peculiar sight in front of her. Barnes was… well, he was all-but playing in slow-motion with the pair of drones she'd crafted for Sam. Their tentative, painstakingly gentle interactions had a way of reminding her of simpler times.
Barnes probably didn't remember it, and who knew if anyone had chosen to tell him, but those two had come about at James's solemn request. She hadn't been aware he'd carried some amount of sizable distaste for Redwing at the time, but then, there were numerous aspects of their fleeting interactions post-Zemo-breakout escapades that they'd both chosen to keep close to their chests. It was like an elephant was lumbering about the room as each of them exchanged only the briefest pockets of information about the suit and drones she was building for Sam without either of them daring to ask about the obvious. He'd offered half-formed apologies about why he'd done what he had and how it was his idea and not Sam's, but Shuri'd set her jaw and not pressed for details, perhaps fearing that anything he might've said would only have upset her more. Disappointed her more.
She'd caught something uneasy lingering in the air between them when they'd last spoken privately about the suit, before it'd been ferried across the Atlantic to him, but she hadn't been able to place exactly what it was beyond that it lay somewhere at the intersection between where apologies met with appreciation for the high-tech 'favor' she'd been willing to grant them. But now? Now Shuri tried to trace back to his words. Absent the exact phrasing, she wondered if he'd intended their last private call to be a 'goodbye' of sorts. That he'd realized he'd hurt her, hurt all of them by his actions and inactions alike, and didn't want to take up any further space in their lives if he could avoid it.
And if she were being honest with herself? She'd been okay with that at the time. Not pleased, certainly, but she'd been willing to discreetly cut deeper ties because she wasn't sure what a way forward would even look like. How could she ever truly trust him again, after that? She had no desire to feign the bonds of friendship with someone who could so easily act without concern for her feelings or any other.
…And now…?
She understood more, grasped more about why he'd done what he had, but now… this.
She sighed. How strange it was to think that even in his current mental state, part of her still clung not only to hope, but to an undeniable bond they all shared, one that even time and trials could not, would not, erase.
Not then, and especially not now.
None of the people sitting and standing across the way from her were naive to the highly complex situation they'd somehow found themselves in, not even Barnes. She'd hoped that perhaps a grand solution might've readily presented itself that would allow them to put things right again, but now she wondered what that would even look like, assuming Barnes would have agreed to pursuing such explorations. This was no longer merely a matter of one or the other. Of trying to suss out impossible questions like which collection of memories and life experiences came together form a superior person. But somewhere along the way, Shuri had hoped even if she did not have good news for 'James' and what once was, she would instead have good news for 'Barnes' and the new life ahead of him.
Instead she had neither, and it pained her to have the conversation she knew she must have.
She might've chosen to hide herself behind a facade of well-honed, shallow smiles she once perfected for political events, but instead she allowed some fraction of her feelings to leech to the surface of her skin. Perhaps it was a selfish way for her to pre-empt the coming discussion, to own up the guilt she carried with her for believing that this painful situation they'd found themselves in was in some way explicitly her fault.
If she'd only been more careful… more prepared…
Ayo spotted her first, ever on alert for she who shared their 'Ibhondi Yomgcini,' their Bodyguard's Bond. It was as if Ayo could see her own fears reflected in the warrior woman's deep brown eyes. How they did not see merely a Princess of royal station or a bright and flawless mind. No, Ayo's searching eyes saw through her, peered under the rocks and mounds of detritus shadowing her thoughts. Into the private corners few knew about. The deep and vulnerable spots she had to hide from view, because it was up to her to be strong. To have all the answers. To be a voice of reason.
She and Ayo were remarkably different people, but they shared the burden of duty in common, and maybe that was why it hurt in a very particular way to be able to pinpoint the slow onset of subtle changes in Ayo's expression that spoke to her keen awareness of what sort of news Shuri carried with her. There was a quiet, growing sadness in her eyes that reflected the private sorrow that even after all they had gone through with James, and the remarkable progress they'd worked so hard to carve out with Barnes, they might not be granted a happy ending.
But Ayo didn't shy away. She held Shuri's gaze, strong and true, speaking without words that this was not a burden Shuri needed to carry alone. Yet it still pained Shuri to know she did not have better news to share with her, or any of the eyes that looked up across the mountain meadow to meet hers one-by-one.
She didn't miss the way Sam's once pleasant, drone-intoxicated face fell away to despair when his eyes met hers. It was as if each of them could wordlessly grasp that the coming conversation would not be an easy one.
Even Barnes.
Perhaps especially Barnes.
Shuri wasn't certain what reaction she'd expected from him, but even though he wasn't inclined to smile, it was as if she could see the hint of joy fade from his eyes in real time at the realization that whatever news she had to deliver would come with setbacks for the new life he'd only recently begun to reclaim for his own.
Even though she hadn't yet spoken a word, the sadness in his eyes was clear as anything, and it hurt to see it cast over features that, only a moment earlier, had been enveloped with a sense of almost childlike wonder at the two drones flitting about nearby.
But like so many other times in her life, Shuri knew there was value in knowing rather than worrying for potential possibilities and worst-case scenarios. So she sucked in a breath of warm mountain air and solidified her resolve before stepping down the last two metal stairs into the soft grass below. She kept her footfalls steady as she crossed the expanse of billowing long grass and dancing wild bushes, making her way towards the group gathered on the far side of the glade.
As she got within earshot, Sam politely ushered the drones back into their concealed compartment on the back of the flight suit and the case it was presently fitted into, "How 'bout you two store-up for a bit here? We'll see about gettin' ya back out later when it's more appropriate. I'm sure Barnes would like to see more'a those in-between years."
One drone, JB, offered Barnes that odd little one rudder wave before promptly settling himself in the case. Closeby, Redwing circled Barnes and emitted a series of pleasant high-pitched chirps before following suit, docking and returning to their concealed dormant state. Shuri wondered just what footage they might've been pouring over, but those were questions for another time.
She could feel the tug of so many lessons playing at the back of her mind, including how best to break news that would not be met with enthusiasm or relief. There were a vast number of parts of her work she enjoyed, but these talks were not among them. The best she could hope for was to be direct, as she'd had to be with M'yra and others like her, and like James so many times before.
But broaching this discussion hurt in a very particular way, and she could not and would not feign clinical detachment to someone that deep down, even after everything they'd gone through, she considered a friend.
As she stepped closer, still struggling to trace where to begin, Ayo raised a hand to Barnes and Sam, prompting the two of them to sit while Yama pulled the mancala board to one side and scooted over, giving Shuri sufficient room to sit between her and Nomble.
But Shuri knew Ayo well enough to know that Ayo's own choice to reposition herself to sit within the dome with Barnes and Sam was deliberate. It was nothing less than a sign of trust, and a show of solidarity for whatever news she planned to break. Without any further delay, Shuri took a seat directly across from Barnes in that silent six-person circle of theirs.
She took a deep breath and briefly glanced out over the waterfalls, hoping to draw strength from their grandeur before she finally found her way into the conversation she knew she must have, "I've spoken with my brother and General Okoye, and they will be on their way shortly. Some of our next steps will weigh on their guidance, but I wanted to share what updates and news I can with you directly before their arrival."
Her eyes kept steady on Barnes as she added, "You have told us you can often tell if someone is lying, and I want to be clear that my desire is to be as forthright with you as I possibly can. You deserve nothing less than understanding in what is happening, and what roads lie ahead of you, and I wish for you to have a voice in these decisions."
She did not say it aloud, but she silently added, You deserve that much, my friend.
No one said a word, but Shuri didn't miss that Barnes folded the tips of his fingers together, as if he sought to ground himself for whatever was to come.
"I have been working with our best and brightest scientists to understand what has happened. Rather than choose to wait and share information with you only when our theories are fully-formed, I am instead choosing to share them with you as soon as possible, because we are working with live data and time is of the essence. I would be happy to share with you how we arrived at our conclusions, but I feel our methods are not nearly as important as the findings themselves."
"Which are…?" Sam drew out, nervously fidgeting to get comfortable in his awkward cross-legged posture.
Shuri nodded once, reminding herself that it was important to be as succinct and to-the-point as possible, "We are still working to understand the underlying cause of the initial onset, but there appear to be direct and undeniable ties to destabilized neurological processes occurring within REM sleep. Our tests and algorithms have shown that continuing to intentionally avoid this phase of sleep and any artificially-generated rapid eye movement has given us increased confidence in the overall relative stability of Barnes's mind."
This was a precious breadcrumb of genuinely good news she had to share, and Shuri could tell Barnes grasped what little she had to offer, "So you're saying as long as we keep doing what we're doing with the sub sixty-minute sleep schedule so I avoid entering REM sleep, my memories will be stable? That what happened the two days ago… when you said existing connections got 'untethered' and I – your friend – forgot a lot all at once… you're saying that won't happen again?"
Shuri nodded once, trying to push emotion into her voice and impress upon him that this was indeed good news, "Yes. We are confident there would be no sudden regression while your mind is kept in a perpetual non-REM state."
She expected him to follow up with a question, but instead he watched her, as if already waiting for the next shoe to drop.
"However, it is not typical to try to keep someone in a perpetual non-REM state at-length, and we have been running simulations on the impact of a long-term trial on your mind specifically. Unfortunately, we have found that this approach, while viable in the short-term, does not present itself as a viable long-term solution."
Barnes's eyebrows knitted together, "What do you mean?"
Shuri resisted the urge to bring up a visual aid and project currents of illustrative data the side of the undulating orange dome between them, and instead focused a succinct explanation for their findings, "REM sleep is a critical part of the mind's natural ongoing process in memory, and memory recall, and absent of it, our simulations have shown that it begins to strain other connected processes. It is like having suspension bridges stretched between mountains that are slowly moving. While the tests and algorithms we've run give remarkable confidence to the theory that absent of REM sleep, neither your memories or personality are at risk of undergoing a sudden, dramatic shift, eventually the pull of the mountains will cause the bridges to strain, falter, and eventually snap. And as more tension builds, based on our simulations, there are likely to be increasing serious consequences."
The blue-eyed man sitting across from her wasn't the only one who frowned at her proclamation, "What sort of consequences?
"At first?" Shuri did what she could to stick to the most prominent facts she knew, "The changes might be so subtle, you might not even notice them. Your heightened recall of events may make way to more generalized memories absent of fine detail. Perhaps the discrete memories you now have could become increasingly hazy and imprecise. Eventually, pockets could slip away and fade out entirely, potentially without you even being aware of it. But that could make way for even greater, far more troubling forms of regression."
She swallowed, trying to focus on the words she needed to say so that he, and everyone around them would fully grasp the dire nature of the news she had for them, "It is entirely possible that you could again lose the ability to read expressions, recognize faces, comprehend languages, or even form new memories."
When no one breathed a word, Shuri pushed herself to continue, speaking to Barnes specifically, "You could become a prisoner of your own mind. Perhaps permanently. And it is the fear of permanency that gives me greatest concern. That instead of dealing with opening and closing doors in your mind and memories, your mind could suffer far more dire, irreparable changes."
"How long…?" Ayo's voice inquired through the resounding silence.
Shuri turned her attention to Ayo, wishing with everything in her that she had better news to offer, "It's yet unclear. We will need to continue to monitor Barnes's mind for key landmarks that signify we are reaching the dangerous precipice the simulations predict is ahead of us, but at the current rate? Likely only days, if that." She met Barnes cloudy blue eyes as she added, "I wish I had better news to share with you, but we have not given up yet. We are still working tirelessly to determine what alternative treatments might be viable alternatives, but it is important for you to understand the precarious position we find ourselves in, and we now find ourselves working against the throes of an unseen clock."
She didn't say it aloud, but she hoped he could glimpse the conviction of her resolve, that she would not give up on him. That this was her cause as much as it was his.
And that he was not alone in these challenges they faced, however harrowing they may be.
Barnes heard Shuri's words, but the wake of them left him struggling to push down the resounding static-bled panic curdling up inside of him like too much spoiled milk.
He knew his mind wasn't well. He didn't deny that solemn fact. But he'd felt like things were getting better, that he was on a path to some broad sort of recovery that might've still left him with a spotty memory. He was willing to look forward rather than focusing on a past he might never be able to clearly remember, and that prospect was okay. He could work with that. Form new memories knowing that he was now free of the code words, free from HYDRA's firm grip.
But now…?
…if he only had days left…?
Barnes was acutely aware that the people around him were giving him space to process the dire news, but he didn't even know where to begin. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he'd been bracing himself for an update that was more along the lines of apologies that pieces of his past might be forever washed out to sea, irrecoverable, and he'd made peace with that possibility, but this…?
He'd spent so long struggling to make sense of the emotions cast over faces, that the idea of potentially being blind to them again, or struggling with being able to distinguish people and who they were…or to lose the ability to use language altogether… it was overwhelming to try and process not only where his life might lead, but if Shuri was right, how much longer he might still recognize the people sitting around him.
His friends.
Barnes hadn't made a conscious effort to close his eyes, but before he could spiral into evermore terrifying 'what ifs..?' Ayo's soft voice offered reassurance from just over his left shoulder "We are here with you."
He nodded, even though unsung panic continued to grip and claw at his throat. Barnes did what he could to force himself to focus on the present and ground himself in it like Ayo'd taught him to do. With intention, he felt out the weight of his body and the warmth of the morning sun at his side. If he listened hard enough, he could make out a cacophony of natural sounds all around him: branches ladened with leaves shuddering against one another, swells of bright bird song, and the distant crash of waterfalls.
But mostly, he was aware of the people seated around him. Their presence. The subtleties that set them apart, and their heightened breathing that told him without words that even though their own minds were not addled with the same trials as his, that they felt for his plight as if it was an extension of their own.
And that mattered.
With slow, measured breaths in and out, Barnes tempered his breathing, using the breaths of the people seated around him to find his rhythm again. As he did, he strove to take comfort in the fact that they'd waded through trials together before, including many he apparently had no recollection of.
He wasn't alone. They hadn't given up then, and he wasn't about to give up now.
"So," he began, fluttering his eyes open and looking around to each member of the group before addressing Shuri, "you said if we continue to delay REM sleep, I'll be stable, but at this rate, after a few days there will be potential long-term consequences. What about the alternative? What if you let me undergo REM sleep?"
Shuri's lips drew into a line and she shook her head, "Recent simulations have shown that in nearly all cases, entering into REM sleep causes the greatest chance of what our scientists are calling 'Cascade Events.' Periods where the mind is likely to fracture in profoundly untenable and highly unpredictable ways."
"But the the night before last, when I slept on my own and entered REM sleep, I remembered more when I woke up than I had beforehand," Barnes emphasized.
And that tight expression Shuri had for him… it wasn't at all reassuring, "We now believe you had more in certain ways, yes, but less in others based on the comparative readings present in the data." Her compassionate eyes sought out his, "The problem remains, when in the throws of such Cascade Events, there is little way for you to grasp what and how much you've lost or gained. We have no way to dynamically capture that specific data from the mind, but I can only tell you it is presently a far more turbulent and dangerous proposition. More than that, it would mean each time you slept, we would not know 'who' would wake up, and with what memories or aptitudes. It took us days to even be able to converse like this," she gestured between the two of them, "where there is understanding and honesty between us. Absent of that, it would make it incredibly difficult to help you on such highly nuanced matters."
Shuri sighed lightly, "To add to that: Our current algorithms have shown that allowing you to enter REM states has not showed any remarkable boons to slowing the degradation of your mind. In its current form, it presents the highest risks across the board, especially when coupled with the fact that there are presently no tangible benefits."
She didn't need to elaborate further or the quiet part out loud, because Barnes could read it as clear as anything on her face: He was liable to lose more memories, and potentially hurt people again.
It was likely he would no longer be himself, and whatever scraps of memories and life experiences he woke up with might not even form a whole person.
As stubborn as he was to want to remember more, he could grasp why Shuri felt the option to undergo REM sleep wasn't a risk she felt they should take on at this juncture.
Before his mind could careen into any further options on an increasingly long list of horrific possible outcomes, Shuri added insistently, "My team and I are not giving up hope on formulating a viable solution, but we are unsure what that might look like as of yet. Beyond slowing or ideally halting the degradation of your mind, it remains my hope that if we can determine how and why certain memories are being selected to be elevated or repressed, then perhaps we can formulate a way to make REM sleep be safe again. Ideally, we would hope to allow you the freedom of truly benign dreams, or the potential for additive memories rather than crippling subtractive risks."
The woman seated in front of him sighed, visibly frustrated with the situation they found themselves in and her lack of conclusive answers, "But all of this is moving quickly, and it is important to me that you have a voice in your treatment, because we realize now there is a very real risk that given enough time, you may no longer be able to fully grasp what decisions need to be made regarding your ongoing care."
There was something in the careful way she spoke the words that reverberated deep in Barnes, and he didn't miss the way the women to either side of Shuri winced at the princess's somber declaration. He searched her eyes, her posture. The way she held her head, and the hint of her pulse along the edge of her neck: among them were no signs that she sought to mislead or lie to him. Instead, he was struck with her pointed blend of pain and tenacious resolve. A clarity of purpose.
A mission.
He was her mission.
Barnes slowly licked his lips before asking the obvious, "...Would putting me back into cryo help anything from where we are now?"
Shuri flinched before quickly responding, "It's been discussed as a potential option, but like so many things, there are unknown risks associated with undergoing such a procedure, especially when your mind is not functioning in wholly predictable ways. We are of course continuing to run simulations concerning various options as a precaution and possible contingency. That being as it is: There is no present urgency towards entering into a cryogenic sleep, but there may come a time that that is the best option and temporary measure while we continue to work towards a viable long-term solution."
Before Barnes could even respond, Sam interjected, "So putting him into a freeze sooner rather than later wouldn't help?"
Barnes shot Sam what he hoped was at least a mildly offended look, but the man beside him simply lifted his palms in surrender, "Look, I'm just trying to understand our options. The bulk of this stuff is way over my head and well outside any of my medical specialties. I'm not trying to make decisions for you or argue with the experts, but I'd be obliged to get a CliffsNotes version so I can follow along."
A faint smile briefly flitted across Shuri's face before rapidly fading, "Entering a cryogenic freeze in his current state carries with it not only biological risks, but we would be unable to collect certain types of critical data while he is fully or even partially under. In addition," She inclined her head, "when he wakes up, it's not in any way certain it will be 'Barnes' that regains consciousness. As a result, my team and I feel it is better to continue to collect live scan data to help strengthen and fine-tune our simulation algorithms and hopefully work towards a lasting solution."
"But in the meantime," Barnes cut in, "What you're saying is that if I continue to avoid REM sleep, then I only have a few more days as 'me,' and then it's unclear what happens from there, beyond the beginnings of what you suspect will be some sort of a slow regression?"
"In essence, yes," Shuri confirmed in a voice laden with apology, "but even that end result is not a foregone conclusion. We still have time. Even after we potentially hit a point where things might begin to unravel further, it doesn't mean that's the end, or that we will stop fighting for you. My team and I remain fully dedicated to helping you."
"And we will aid them in whatever ways we can," Ayo added, speaking for the group.
When Barnes glanced over his shoulder, he found Ayo's resolute eyes waiting to meet him, and the Dora on either side of Shuri dipped their heads in agreement. He got the impression Yama considered speaking, but instead she held onto their words in preference for the somber camaraderie of the moment.
The truth of the matter was that Barnes felt a lot of increasingly troubling and terrifying things at once, and it was profoundly difficult to know what fraction of the news to focus on.
On one hand, at best, Shuri's calculations and best-case scenario offered a narrow timeline of mere days until it was possible his memories and more could begin to slip away from him until eventually maybe he wasn't himself anymore at all. Worse yet? He might not know it was happening at all, and when it happened, it could be frighteningly permanent. He could go right back to being unable to recognize faces, read expressions, properly communicate, comprehend, or worse.
…He didn't have to think hard about a host of different ways it could get a lot worse.
It was a struggle to piece out slivers of silver linings among so many unknowns, but he found that while the thought of losing himself again was rightfully terrifying, it was a relief of sorts to know he wasn't due to become someone's weapon to command at their behest. Following on the heels of that thought was a strange sort of morbid comfort that the people seated on the grass around him wouldn't allow him to hurt other people again. Ayo'd promised him that, and he believed her. He believed she would do what was necessary, even if it came at the cost of his own life. He'd made peace with that, he'd just thought he had more time…
But maybe it wouldn't come to that. Maybe the 'worst case' here was that they might need to put him back into cryo until they managed to untangle his mind. That was a possibility he could stomach.
And if he never came out…?
…Well… It was still better than losing himself, and hurting more people along the way.
Barnes sighed and looked out over the sunlit waterfalls, wishing he had more time. If the date on his ID was correct, he was apparently a hundred and four years old, but he certainly didn't feel it. He just felt cheated in some way to know that after all that horror, there'd been some better years, but he didn't remember more than fleeting fractions of them. That was supposed to amount to something, right?
He wanted to think it did.
His right hand moved to rest over the nanite-forged vibranium star in his pocket before he fished it free and regarded the five-pointed shape anew, "Did they figure out anything about the star? About the Dark Place?"
Shuri shook her head, "No, not yet. It's possible they're connected to all of this, but we haven't located any definitive threads as of yet. Especially with so much going on, we don't want to risk spending too many resources trying to uncode dreams, when they are unlikely to offer direct solutions for your present plight, but my scientists are still exploring the possibility."
There was nothing in Shuri's statement that was intrinsically wrong, but he felt compelled to add, "It wasn't just a dream, though. It was an Ukuphupha. It was important. This was important," he emphasized the dark, five-pointed vibranium star in his hand, "I don't know how, but… I just know. It's part of this somehow, I just wish I understood how." He didn't mean to sound so defeated, but it was endlessly frustrating to feel as though he was having to fight the corners of his own mind. How was that fair?
"It would be helpful if you might consider returning to the lab for further scans," Shuri broached the topic delicately, and when Barnes narrowed his eyes and looked up across the circle of people to her, she quickly added, "The fidelity of the equipment there is much improved from the crude data we are able to capture remotely."
Barnes didn't get the impression she was lying, but he could feel himself tense at the possibility of returning to that lab or any other, "So you'd consider raising the shield, only to put me back in the lab for monitoring?" He could hear the palpable discontent building in his own voice, but he didn't fight it.
Shuri blinked at that, and her tone pivoted on its heel, "You misunderstand. My intent was not to do so against your will, nor would it be for you to remain in the lab at-length. But were we to leave this place, if my brother and General Okoye find it agreeable, at the very least, you would need to be willing to wear a cortical monitor," she placed an instructive finger tip against her temple, "so we could continue to actively scan your brain waves and vitals in the hopes of collecting critical data we can use for your care."
He frowned, irritated at the possibility, but he did his best not to immediately shoot it down. If he only had a few days left, he didn't want to spend it in a lab, but if she promised it was brief, maybe–
But before Barnes could inquire for further details, a barely audible buzz emanated from the back pocket of the man beside him. With some amount of embarrassment, Sam quickly squirmed and pulled his cell phone free, grumbling a, "Sorry, one sec, lemme see who it is."
Barnes was confident he could've read the message if he'd wanted to, but he'd deduced enough about the present communication settings of Sam's phone to know that the only calls and messages that were set to emit audible cues were were from his sister, nephews, a J. Torres, and J. Rhodes.
Well, that and three others: Shuri, Ayo, and the cell phone in Barnes's own back pocket that wasn't his, but also was.
Figuring a little curiosity couldn't hurt, at a quick glance, Barnes was able to determine that the notification wasn't a missed call, but a text message from J. Rhodes.
Sam did an admirable job adjusting his posture and drumming his fingers while he skimmed the contents of a multi-lined block of text. It wasn't as if Sam'd exactly been in a chipper mood before receiving the correspondence, but there was an underpinning of distress that rose up on the other man's face that Barnes decided he definitely didn't like, "What is it?"
"Nothing to do with you man, don't worry about it," Sam worked his thumbs to quickly compose and send a reply before turning the screen over in his lap, as if he was waiting out an anticipated response before he planned to pocket the phone again.
"That wasn't my question," Barnes deadpanned.
Sam had the gall to flail his fingers in Barnes's direction, as if shooing the question away like an errant-mannered fly, "I heard the question, but as I said, dunn't matter. Just an update on international stuff that someone else's gotta deal with, not us."
Barnes didn't miss the phrasing, "Us?"
The remark only earned him another flail of Sam's nearest hand, "You know what I meant."
With a calculated cross of his arms, Barnes posed the obvious, "...You'd tell him though, wouldn't you?"
Sam's lips flapped in objection, "Hey now! That's not fair."
"You would," Barnes retorted, and by the expression on every other face seated around them watching the exchange, he wasn't a drop wrong.
"Okay then, Barnes," Sam somehow managed to both grumble and chew his words at the same time, "as I said: This isn't our problem, but Rhodey just wanted to keep me in the loop about what's goin' on in Symkaria, because there's been another break in, and based on what little footage they got, they think it's the same Super-powered assassin that might'a taken out a heap of the royal family."
"And?" Barnes pressed.
Sam narrowed his eyes in a rather remarkable imitation of a petulant child, "Rhodey also wanted to let me know that due to a spot of homegrown surveillance, we know it's not Walker. I'm guessin' you don't remember him. Blond guy. Hero complex. Smart mouth. Court martialed for–" He cut himself off, "Yeah, I don't even want to begin to get into all that, but suffice to say: I've no plans of tacking him on to my Christmas card list. But he's been laying low the last few months, so it'd certainly crossed my mind there was a chance that could'a been him out there leaping buildings and takin' out people in Symkaria. But I'm relieved it's not, because last time I saw him, it seemed like he was trying to turn a corner."
"So," Sam elaborated, "Rhodey just wanted to let me know he's not our guy, and since there's some sorta cosmic humor that Walker's a Super Soldier now too, there was apparently a brief period where someone considered trying to reach out to him to pull him into the case on account of the two of us being presently indisposed. But as soon as Rhodey got word of that, he called up whoever he needed to in Washington to shoot that bucket of insanity dead in its tracks before anyone got any other hair-brained ideas. So like I said: Nothin' you need to worry about."
The other man's tone might've been conclusive, but Barnes didn't miss that the mere mention of the name 'Walker' had a reverberating effect through the group of women surrounding them. Ayo's features tightened in visible distaste, while Yama raised her chin in… defiance, was it? Nomble's own features were more neutral, but even she set her jaw as Shuri crossed her arms, pensive, "I admit I had considered the possibility, as he is a trained operative, is he not?"
Sam flinched, "Yeah, one of ours, but this isn't his style, either. I don't take him for a rogue operative or gun for hire. He's a lotta things, but man bled red, white, and blue in his own way."
"His impassioned choice to take a questionable serum clearly did not impart any benefits to his judgment," Ayo cooly noted, her voice rigid. "A man trained in the ways of war does not simply revert back into a kitten because his superiors no longer find him useful."
"He mewled and fought like a kitten," Yama muttered just loud enough that Barnes was fairly certain she intended for her words to be overheard.
Ayo didn't argue the point, but Yama's passing remark had a way of coaxing a twitch from the corner of Nomble's lips.
Barnes couldn't place the person they were talking about, and he wasn't sure what this man named Walker had to do with anything, but he could sense some amount of relief that apparently he wasn't involved in the issues still brewing in Symkaria. Though, from Sam's frustrated tone of voice, it didn't put them any closer to identifying and capturing their target.
"So they're trying to track down someone with specific training then?" Barnes inquired, running his fingers over the five-pointed star in his palm.
It was clear from the annoyed expression on Sam's face that he wasn't keen to continue the conversation, but eventually he acquiesced, "That's their best guess. That we're dealing with a professional, rather than an amateur."
"Which is why they wanted your friend to help track him down."
"I don't–" Sam started before rapidly cutting himself off and muttering something under his breath. He was doing a damn good job of pointedly ignoring the overturned cell phone in his lap, which buzzed and vibrated with another incoming message, "I mean, I was hoping it was more about the Super Soldier angle. Seein' if he thought one'a them could be up to something, or if it was one of the other big three."
Barnes cocked his head, "What big three?"
"Aliens, androids, and wizards."
He might've made a face at that, but Nomble stepped in before Barnes could respond, "You mean sorcerers," she politely corrected.
Sam shot her a look and groaned, "Not you too."
"Like Gandalf?" Barnes wasn't following.
Something in his comment made Sam do a double-take, "W–...How do you know about Gandalf?"
"I read about him. …At some point."
"Gandalf is a fictional character," Nomble was quick to elaborate, "Sorcerers are real."
Sam ran his fingers over the bridge of his nose, "I still can't– Of all the things you remember, it's junk like that? Are you serious, man…?
Barnes cocked his head in Nomble's direction, "Wait, sorcerers are real? So magic—?"
"We will discuss it another time," she assured him, "But yes."
Would wonders of this new age never cease?
Sam groaned and rolled his eyes as Barnes took the opportunity to correct the man beside him, "So you're confident it wasn't aliens, androids, or sorcerers. That it was a Super Soldier?"
"Wait, you're going to get all up in my case about wizards but not bat an eye about the mention of bonafide aliens?"
"HYDRA knew about them," Barnes reasoned, "The Battle of New York in 2012 offered a supply of new, advanced tech HYDRA strove to duplicate and reverse-engineer. Or do you not have history books in 2024?"
"I—" Sam started, "Okay yeah, smartass, that tracks. But you can at least have the courtesy of being a little awestruck."
And Barnes just… casually shrugged, coaxing a hint of a smile from Yama across the way from him.
"Anyway!" Sam emphasized, taking back the reins of the conversation, "I see what you were getting at. Makes sense that the folks up the chain would want to try and pull in another Super Soldier that used to do… similar operative work… maybe even in the same area, but B– our friend–" Sam corrected before Barnes thought to cut in.
"Your Partner."
Sam's lips hung open for a moment and his eyebrows folded together like he was trying to mindread, "I see what you're doin."
"And what's that?"
"You're tryin' to be all-kinds of annoying without even having the courtesy of being coy about it."
Barnes crossed his own arms, shrugging as he mirrored Sam, "You're the one telling me that your Partner didn't remember much about the area, but I do. I might even be able to help you trace your way to the HYDRA base I remember being there."
"Barnes…" Sam firmly complained while the cell phone in his lap vibrated insistently again.
"It's even possible," Barnes continued, "that being in the vicinity might even jog my memory like it did out here. Help me recall some blind spots. Something that could help you."
While Sam leaned forward and turned his attention to Ayo, as if imploring her support in shooting down what Barnes was digging at, Barnes looked across to Shuri, "You said it's only a matter of days until…?" his voice faded out.
The resident genius chewed the corner of her lip and her eyes glanced at Sam and then Ayo before she responded, "To our best estimates, yes. We believe that in less than a week's time, continuing to delay the onset of REM sleep will begin to cause potentially permanent mental untethering, which is likely to present itself in the form of slow-onset cognitive regression."
"Okay then. So it's reasonable to assume that, unless things change, I only have a few more days where I'm 'me.'"
"Barnes…" Sam objected again, but Barnes continued to ignore him, and instead kept his attention focused unilaterally on Shuri, who appeared to be willing to hear him out.
"But maybe if I go there, to Symkaria, I can help. And if we don't do it soon, there's a chance I might not be able to access whatever HYDRA locked away in my mind for much longer. I don't know if any of this is related. It might not be. But… you have to understand," he pressed, "To me, I just got out. I don't want to go back either. That's the last place I want to be if I only have a few days left, but I've got to know. It's the right thing to do." He took a deep breath before adding, "But if we can go. If we can try. I'll come right back here. We can get back before the timer is up, and you take me to the lab or even put me straight into cryo. Whatever you think is best. I won't put up a fight."
Sam started to say something, but Shuri lifted a finger to gently silence him, "This is not a course of action that I alone can approve, but I would have us visit the lab before such an arrangement was even considered."
Barnes frowned, but pressed, "But there's a chance that any delay, or even something you could do there, even unintentionally, might make it so I can't remember. We both know even benign experimental techniques carry risks."
The young woman clad in bright purple and blue across from him idly ran her fingers along the rim of her coffee cup while she considered his words. Shuri didn't look entirely convinced, but he got the impression she hadn't dismissed the validity of the counter-proposal he'd posed either.
"With all respect," Sam interjected, "a heaping of valid concerns aside, you're hardly in any shape for any kinda missions, particularly the kind involving international scrutiny and civilians."
"Shuri said I'm stable."
"She said your mind is stable, in terms of whatever we're callin' this bucket of personality-memory stuff, but that's far from a clean bill of health."
"My foot feels fine."
"That's definitely not what I was getting at either, and you know it."
Sam could be so needlessly irritating. Had their friend felt this level of frustration when volleying words with him too? "Look, you're not getting what I'm saying."
"And what's that?"
"You think I'm dangerous. That I'm him. The Soldier. I'm not."
That particular declaration had a way of stilling Sam and softening his expression, "I didn't say you were him."
"But that's what this is about," Barnes reasoned, and the response from Sam's eyebrows said it all: that he wasn't wrong.
The muscles around Sam's lips rearranged themselves and he held up a finger, paused, and then worked his jaw, "Look. To you, you're a man out of time here, and I get that. Or I'm tryin' to at least. That the order of things is all out-of-whack for you. And I'm not tryin' to hold a grudge, but if I'm being honest? If I look at things one way, you mangled my hands and face, and nearly ended my life in more'n one way two days ago. And if you flip the script and look back at how things were in early 2014, it wasn't much better, at least from the parts I remember firsthand. And I know that's not you now, that's who you want to be, and I genuinely believe that, but it doesn't just wipe the slate clean. It doesn't mean I could trust you around Sarah and my nephews, and if I can't trust you around them, I couldn't in any clean conscience trust you around civilians, 'cause they're someone else's sister or nephews. You get what I'm sayin'?"
Barnes hadn't expected Sam to put things out in the open like that, but as frustrating as it was to hear, he couldn't exactly deny where he was coming from. He only wished Sam understood that it wasn't like that, that he wasn't just talking to an echo of the Soldier who was liable to go off and vault into violence at any moment.
"It's not like that," Barnes managed before adding, "Not anymore. I don't know how to explain it, but back when I hurt you, I was closer to that. To him. I know that. It was like I'd only just escaped, but now…" he flexed his fingers, "it's like… I can't remember most of what happened between then and now, but my body remembers. Like it's working knowledge under the surface. They aren't the same instincts I had in HYDRA, even in Washington D.C."
"They are White Wolf's instincts," Ayo stated succinctly.
Something in the way she said the words held a particular flavor of resounding conviction and profound underlying meaning. Not only that, but Barnes found he didn't bristle at hearing title – no not title, nickname – anymore. He recognized it was stated with intention, and was meant to encourage Sam, and everyone around them to draw very deliberate comparisons.
But Sam heard it, and he must've gotten the subtext of it too because he leaned forward and out around Barnes so he could catch Ayo's eye, "...You're serious."
"He remembers the extensive training we specifically did to try and provoke him, and many lessons like it."
"And?" Sam pressed.
Ayo's eyes glanced towards Shuri before they turned to first Barnes and then Sam, "If we are speaking specifically to instincts, I would trust them like White Wolf's own."
While Sam sucked in air between the gap in his front teeth and processed Ayo's words, Barnes pleaded his case to anyone who would listen, "Look. I've been a part of a lot of awful stuff, and I'm guessing I barely recall the tip of the iceberg, but you're telling me your friend wasn't able to remember any of the stuff that went down in Symkaria? Well I remember bits and pieces, and I feel like if I got my feet on the ground there, maybe I could remember more. I know there was a base there. We could find out if it's still active, and what happened to those other prisoners they were keeping there. They had me blindfolded, but I really think, given the chance, I could track it down again."
Barnes turned his attention to Sam, "And maybe there's something there or another breadcrumb buried in my mind that can help whatever's going on now. I don't know, but if I only have a few more days where I'm guaranteed to still be me, I don't want to spend it holed-up in yet another lab. This isn't just about me anymore. Don't you see that?"
The timber of Sam's voice changed, seeking out a middleground, "Yeah, but delaying lookin' into things might just reduce your chances of getting better, too."
"But what if they're still there? Or if not them: other people like them, like me?" Barnes beseeched, "Sam, what if something I know could help you track down that Super Powered assassin so they don't kill anyone else?"
Sam held his gaze before he added more softly, "...You're tryin' to make amends."
It was a statement. Not a question.
"I don't know. It's just… there's a lot of blank spots, but I know this is the right thing. It's bigger than me. And if I only have a few days left, I can't undo all I've done, but I think I can help here. I want to help here."
Ayo's rhythmic voice cut through the morning air, direct and crisp, "If you were permitted to travel to Symkaria, it would not only require the blessings of all involved, but you would be accompanied at all times, and would commit to acting with caution at our behest and returning to Wakanda without resistance for further treatment at a time of our choosing. Would you freely agree to such an arrangement, were it to come to pass?"
Barnes looked over his shoulder to where the regaliaed woman sat awaiting his reply to the terms she'd floated out in the open, a tentative pact that–
He wanted to answer her, but there was another question lingering in his periphery, one that he'd been wondering about for some time, but hadn't yet summoned the courage to broach head-on. Yet now as he sat on the grass next to Ayo and the others, he found he needed to know. "First, I…" He licked his lips, "I don't know how much longer I'll be 'me,' but if it comes to the point where I no longer have a voice… where I'm not myself… if you had to choose between me or your friend, if it were as simple as that, who would you choose?"
There was a time not so very long ago when he might've posed the question as a test of sorts, but now… …Now he found he just wanted to understand where they stood rather than to assume he knew their answer.
At his inquiry, Ayo blinked and adjusted her shoulders. The warrior woman glanced to Shuri and then Sam, as if deferring to their unspoken hierarchy before she considered responding.
"I would hear you first," Shuri directed her comment to Ayo specifically, and though Sam's expression remained distant, he nodded once in agreement.
Ayo adjusted her jaw, and shifted in place, she turned slightly towards Barnes as if it was important she faced him head-on when answering such a weighty question. As she did, she clasped her hands together and formed a bridge with her pointer fingers and thumbs. Her hands made no specific words or letters, but something about how she held them reminded Barnes of how she'd once used them to speak with him, back when he feared the poisoned words of command that might fall from her lips. But now, he found he was oddly aware of her presence. How close she was, and how instead of having to fight down that part of him that recoiled at the thought of being touched, he found their relative proximity oddly soothing, because it spoke to a very particular sort of trust.
Like he had with the cats.
…Even after all that had happened between him and Ayo, she'd chosen to sit peacefully inside the dome with him, without fear of him, even though she knew what he was capable of.
Slowly, she found her voice, "You pose a difficult question, but it is a fair and honest one, and I will do what I can to speak candidly. The recent days we have faced together have not been without trials, but they have offered me time to consider such complex matters."
She lifted her chin as she added, "I have made promises to both you and our friend, and would prefer to think of these oaths as not mutually exclusive. I believe in my heart that the most important thing is for you to be well and to have the promise of a good life. Were you unable to make decisions for yourself, it would not be fair of me to go against your wishes in the pursuit of trying to coax your mind and memories to be more like someone else, simply because that was originally the man I came to know. You are both cut from the same cloth, and it would be wrong of me to not embrace the man before me in preference to the echo of another. That is not true friendship. That is a cage."
The strength of her conviction was evident on Ayo's face, but Barnes could tell there was something else, something subtle and yet unspoken that she was working her way to voicing aloud.
"...But," she began tentatively, adjusting her hands with idle intention, "I would be remiss if I did not also tell you that our friend and I have not always seen eye to eye. Sometimes to degrees that put a strain on our friendship. I have never wished him ill," she was quick to add, "but there is a part of me that wishes still for words to be exchanged that might've granted deeper understanding between us, as well as apologies for actions I took that were not justified, even in the heat of the moment. But my own lack of closure isn't reason enough to force you down a path not of your choosing."
It took Barnes a moment to process the subtext of her words, but it was as if he could finally begin to pinpoint some of the complex undercurrents riding quietly beneath the composed strength of her expression. It was strange, poignant, like something in her confession finally made an errant puzzle piece fall smoothly into place.
The truth of the matter was: he had enough memories with her with the trials they'd been through, that he could see it hadn't always been easy for them. How could it? And he barely remembered a fraction of what she did, "I don't recall anything recent," he admitted, "and I know I'm not him, not… in the way you mean, but for what it's worth? When I was with him in the Dark Place, he wasn't in distress," Barnes raised his head towards Ayo and added, "And he was glad you were there with him in the lab."
Ayo smiled softly, her expression melancholy but forthright as she met his eyes with unwavering conviction, "Thank you for telling me."
She held her breath and steadied it before adding, "And to answer your question: if I were forced to choose between you and our friend, I would have you tell me your answer, and I would embrace it as my own. For if there comes a time when your mind again wavers, and others are called to make choices for your care and best interests, that is the path I would bridge towards resolution."
Moments earlier, Barnes hadn't been certain what answer she might offer, but her firm declaration had a way of resonating through not only him, but the faces around him, even – surprisingly – Sam.
"What Ayo said," Sam offered, quickly adding, "Look, this isn't easy on any'a us, but I'm not idiot enough to think it's been a cakewalk for you, either. And while it's hard to imagine there might be stuff you might just never remember and that's that, you're more'n that, you know? And there ain't no world we share where it would be right to put you through something against his wishes just because. Naw, you've been through enough. You get to tell us what you want, and I'll try to respect that too, even if in the end I'm down a Partner and back to, well," he offered up a hand and gestured it broadly in Ayo and the Wakandans' direction, "something of a friend of a mutual friend. I can work with that." His voice grew quieter and more personal as he added more personally, "I just want you to be okay."
Sam let out a breath he must've been holding for a while before rubbing his hands together as he pointedly continued to ignore the buzzing phone in his lap, "And I still think tabling this thing with Symkaria makes more sense under the circumstances, but I hear what you're getting at. And at the end of the day? I'm not you. I don't have to agree with you, or think I'd make the same call if it were me, but I can respect what you're saying. That you don't know how much time you have, and you wanna do the right thing while you're able."
"It is an admirable sentiment," Shuri agreed, and both Nomble and Yama nodded from either side of her.
Silence fell around them, and the space between breaths were quickly filled with the sounds of swaying branches, rustling leaves, bird calls, buzzing insects, and the distant drum of towering waterfalls. Oddly, the prevailing sentiment didn't feel heavy, or even hopeless. There was an unsung, growing urgency to action, and Barnes found himself wiggling the toes of his injured foot from within the confines of his boot, as if preemptively testing them for whatever lay ahead.
He slowly ran his thumb over the raised ridges of the star with one hand while the other touched the etching of the Kimoyo beads encircling his wrist. From only a foot to his left, the overturned cellphone on Sam's lap vibrated again and was promptly ignored, a summons to be answered at another time. There was so much Barnes wanted to say, but the nuance… none of the plethora of languages he knew managed to capture just what he wanted to relay.
But that didn't mean he wasn't going to try.
"To answer your question, I just want to be 'me' for as long as I can. I wasn't thinking there was a timer running up against my future, but I remember enough of what they did to my brain, that it's not surprising that even tech as advanced as yours can't just put a magic band aid on it all and fix whatever they broke along the way. But…" He lifted his head, "I also know I've done a lot of awful stuff, and hurt more people than I can probably remember. I can't wipe the slate clean, or undo any of that, no matter how much I want to. But if I can help… that's what I wanna do."
He took a deep breath before continuing, "Look. I don't know how many days I have left, and I don't want to spend them holed up in a lab knowing there could be other people out there I could help." He looked back to Ayo, returning to the original question she'd posed to him, "And if you tell me to drop it, I will. I won't fight you. I won't try to run." His voice faded slightly as he added, "This is where I want to be. I know my mind's not well. I believe that. And I don't want anyone else to get hurt, either."
His eyes searched the faces of the people around him, "He trusted you, and I'm trying my best to, too." Barnes took a deep breath and slowly lifted one arm, clenching his left hand into a fist before placing it diagonally across his chest with the ceremony of intention, as returned to addressing Ayo specifically, " But if you let me travel to Symkaria for what could be my last mission, I'll let you take the lead. I'll do whatever you ask, up to and including returning to Wakanda for whatever comes next." He snorted lightly to himself before adding, "You don't even need to say the code words."
There was a strange medley of pride and melancholy in Ayo's sepia brown eyes as she returned the gesture, "We will discuss the possibility with King T'Challa and General Okoye."
"Alongside the matter of the shield," Shuri was quick to add. Though by her tone, Barnes felt certain she was not wholly opposed to his proposal.
Sam finally flipped over the phone in his lap and tapped the edges of the case in thought, "Suppose in the meantime there isn't any harm seeing if there's any further intel about the situation in Symkaria that could be helpful. Just in case."
"Just in case," Shuri agreed, glancing down at a pulsing Kimoyo Bead around her wrist before turning her attention to the distant horizon, "They are enroute now."
"It would behoove us to return to a proper decorum befitting the Dora Milaje," Ayo noted, eyeing Yama pointedly.
"We will be nothing if not your humble Lieutenants," Yama smoothly agreed.
"She wishes for us to be seen and not heard," Nomble drolly added for Barnes's benefit, "I will explain more so that you understand before they arrive."
Barnes looked towards Yama, "Does Sam have to stay silent too?"
"Barnes…"
"What? It's an honest question," Barnes defended, "If my future hangs in the balance and it relies on you being quiet…"
His remark coaxed a smile out of not only Yama, but Shuri as well. The two of them got to their feet and Yama extended her spear, taking up a resolute and wholly professional guard's stance while Shuri brushed herself off and made tracks towards her cot, apparently intent to re-organize her belongings before her brother arrived with General Okoye.
"I can't believe you're trying to give me tips on how to be on my best behavior," Sam muttered from just beside Barnes with not a drop of heat in his voice.
"You talk a lot."
"Just diggin' the hole deeper, smartass," Sam remarked with a roll of his eyes as he stood up and plucked the silver and black vibranium briefcase into one hand and stepped out of the orange energy dome towards his own bedroll.
"I'm right though, aren't I?" Barnes looked to Ayo for support, but she only returned his question with a faint hint of a smile across the corner of her lips.
"You will instruct Barnes on our ways," Ayo addressed Nomble, and with her usual poise, Ayo smoothly stepped out of the dome before extending her own spear, adding, "And if General Okoye has questions for you, including those regarding my own choices, you are to answer them honestly."
"Yes, my Chief."
Nomble got to her feet and dipped her head before taking a step out of the dome as the others had done before her. The act of acknowledging she was now tasked with keeping guard over Barnes granted unsung permission for Ayo to join Shuri and Yama in preparing for their high-ranking guests.
In the distance, a speck of black dotted the warming Wakandan skies. Catching sight of Barnes's split interest, Nomble turned her head, remarking, "You can make it out, even now?"
"Yeah, you?"
"Only just," she admitted, "I had never thought to ask if the mantle of the Black Panther grants our King acute vision like yours." She shook her head once before refocusing her attention on Barnes. She grasped the cylinder of her spear in her hand, but chose not to extend it as she spoke earnestly to him, "I know that Princess Shuri's news was not what we might have hoped for, but there is still hope for a way forward."
"I know," Barnes agreed, watching the ornate ship soaring between clouds in the distance. While the shape of it was undeniably similar to the one that Sam and Shuri had arrived in, Barnes found the sight of this one wasn't nearly so distressing. Part of him was actually eager to see them again under better circumstances, and with his eyes wide open, knowing what he did now. "But if I only have a few days left, I want them to count. And I want to spend them with all of you." He paused before adding in Sindarin, the language they had once apparently learned together, "Ilya horyas men carë úvië ná i carë lúmenen yan me ná antaina."
All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.
Nomble smiled at that, responding with a quote of her own in crisp, clear grey-Elvish that she worked to bear all the gravitas of Gandalf along with it, "It is not despair, for despair is only for those who see the end beyond all doubt." She paused a beat before adding in English, "We do not."
The conviction in her expression was clear as the magnificent mountain view in front of them, and when Nomble finally extended her spear, she tapped it twice on the ground. Without hesitation, the other nearby members of the Dora Milaje, of their Pack, responded in kind. The shoes of their vibranium spears struck the Earth with force and intention, as if the ceremony of the act itself was a silent rallying cry of solidarity on his behalf.
It was enough to make him believe.
[Chapter Art, Close-Up #1 by KLeCrone]
[ID: A cropped painting by KLeCrone showing Shuri standing on the stairs of a black Wakandan ship, a Royal Talon. The rear of the ship is open, and Shuri leaning on the railing and is holding a Starbucks-life coffee cup in both hands. She is wearing a purple and blue-striped jumpsuit and white sneakers and has her hair up in two loose buns. She looks pensive, and her attention is cast towards the left. End ID]
[Chapter Art, Close-Up #2 by KLeCrone]
[ID: A cropped painting by KLeCrone showing a view of a Wakandan mountain scene. In the distance along the left side of the composition are a series of towering waterfalls, and closer to us we see the tops of trees, and a sprawling, grassy meadow. In the meadow is a black Wakandan ship, a Royal Talon, parked towards the right side of the composition. The rear of the ship is open, and a set of grated metal stairs lead into the grass below. On the stairs stands Shuri, who is holding a Starbucks-life coffee cup in both hands. She is wearing a purple and blue-striped jumpsuit and white sneakers and has her hair up in two loose buns. She looks pensive, and her attention is cast over towards the view of the waterfalls in the distance. End ID]
[Chapter Art, by KLeCrone]
[ID: A painting by KLeCrone showing a sweeping sunrise view of a Wakandan mountain scene. In the distance along the left side of the composition are a series of towering waterfalls, and closer to us we see the tops of trees, and a sprawling, grassy meadow. In the meadow is a black Wakandan ship, a Royal Talon, parked towards the right side of the composition. The rear of the ship is open, and a set of grated metal stairs lead into the grass below. On the stairs stands Shuri, who is holding a Starbucks-life coffee cup in both hands. She is wearing a purple and blue-striped jumpsuit and white sneakers and has her hair up in two loose buns. She looks pensive, and her attention is cast over towards the view of the waterfalls in the distance. End ID]
I knew I wanted to have something with Shuri to go along with this chapter, and initially, I had a few different ideas I considered chasing before I opted to attempt to paint a wide shot of the mountain view. I wanted to be able to sit with her for a moment, but to also appreciate the view off the ledge, and the complex emotions it drums up.
I hadn't originally planned to spend *quite* this long at this particular location, but in some ways, it's felt really satisfying to capture a flicker of what I've imagined in my mind's eye and to share it with all of you. I hope you enjoy it!
Please check out this chapter on Archive of Our Own to see the art and links to my social media pages!
Author's Remarks:
So that news of Shuri's… well… apparently our group here is running up against an unfortunate timer of sorts…
- Shuri - I enjoyed sharing a glimpse back to younger Shuri and how she views the world around her.
- Barnes and Sam Banter - Having these two falling into some manner of banter without realizing what they're doing is just… it's so *them.*
- The "Big Three" - I loved wrapping back around to this, and being able to riff off of Bucky and Sam's exchange in TFATWS. XD
- Ayo Struggling to Accept Her Lack of Closure with White Wolf - There were a lot of little character moments within this chapter which I hope resonate with you, but this one felt particularly important to me, and hopefully healing for her to air aloud.
- Music - The bulk of this chapter was written to "It Starts with Patience," and "It's All About Happiness." by Borrtex
So about Symkaria… if it were up to you, would you allow Barnes to travel there? Do you think it's safe, or too risky, all things considered?
This continues to be a living, breathing story, and I want to thank all of you for sharing your enthusiasm with me. I'll say it once and a hundred times more: your comments, kudos, and encouragement continue to be a light in these trying times. Thank you again for sharing this multimedia journey with me.
I hope you enjoyed the art I painted for this chapter too!