Happy birthday to Mia (:

Chapter Thirty-Six
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The only place left to go were the mountains.

I had originally thought Nakia, the woman who had found us, had done so via aircraft. That had not been the case. Land vehicles weren't especially common when you were a spy for the royal family, but that was the situation now. Harder to track. Faster on foot.

But not in the narrow mountain passes.

We had reconnected with Queen Ramonda and Princess Shuri on the way — and some short white guy I'd never seen before, who was definitely not Wakandan either. No idea why he was here, but I would be lying if I said I was relieved to see it wasn't Zemo.

Nakia and the Queen took the lead of the journey, walking and talking quietly with each other, the stranger close behind them and listening in, occasionally trying to add his own thoughts, but ineffective.

I kept pace with Shuri, who hiked all hunched up in a blanket she clutched to her shoulders. Her expression was blank, hollow. For a long time, we didn't speak after first meeting.

Not until we had reached the mountains, and the cold seemed to invite conversation.

She shivered in the increasing drop in temperature, and I pulled off my own blanket to add it on top of her own. Shuri jolted slightly at my touch, looking around as if forgetting where she was.

"Sorry," I said, wincing a little. I hated making people jump unintentionally.

"N-no, it's fine, thank you," She mumbled. "This is just… you know… the worst thing that's ever happened to us, I suppose."

I didn't have to guess or summarize the course of events that had happened. Nakia had filled us in on the way. The outsider, the challenge, the fate of T'Challa. It seemed bizarre, sudden, unlikely. Could he really be dead…?

Shuri didn't need a reminder. "How did you escape?"

"Nakia," Shuri said, jerking her chin forward. "The night he took the throne. There was little time, I didn't think — I never thought he'd have so much support."

"From whom, the other tribes?" I asked, and at Shuri's quick nodding, I added, "What about the Dora Milaje?"

"They— they did nothing. I… I never thought they would abandon me," Shuri said at last, her voice hollow and gaze distant. "The Dora Milaje were always there, I can see them in my earliest memories. Always there. Watching, protecting me. I always thought it was so annoying, and I used to wish they'd leave me alone," she laughed to herself, but it was without humor. "And then they did — and I realized just how much I took for granted. Their loyalty. My safety."

She was silent for a long moment. Her voice was a whisper. "I've never felt so small before. Just a stupid, scared little girl without an army of bodyguards."

"I'm sorry," I said. Deep down, I knew exactly what she felt. That earth shattering realization that everything you believed to be true was, in fact, only temporary and conditional. That in the end, the only person you can trust is yourself.

"And to think I was stupid enough to think they liked me!" Shuri continued, voice rising with self-reproach, maybe even contempt. And then, sadness, her shoulders hunching up. "I thought — I thought they were my friends. But I understand now. They don't serve me. They never served me. Not me, not my mother, not even the Queen. The Dora Milaje are sworn only to the King. My father, my brother — and now… this outsider."

"Who is he?"

"He calls himself Killmonger," Shuri said, before shaking herself over, as if trying to shrug off a bad memory. "He's my… my cousin, I think. The son of my father's brother. I don't know how. He died before I was born…But his real name is N'Jadaka."

She murmurs the name almost as if it were a secret, or a curse.

"And he wasn't lying?" I asked.

"No, he had proof," Shuri shook her head again. "He had his father's ring. That would've been hard enough to duplicate. But he also had the tattoo. It had his name. Marks him as a Wakandan War Dog. A sleeper agent, the only way to identify them out in the field. That would've been impossible to fake. His father would've had to have done that to him."

"His birth name is Erik Stevens," A voice said, followed by heavy warmth falling over my shoulders, and a shadow passing behind us. I looked up, surprised. Forgot Dad had been behind us, bringing up the rear. He must have been listening the whole time. "American. Killmonger was a name he earned during his time with the Navy SEALs, and one he kept since. He got recruited into JSOC — CIA —" he added, at our questioning looks. "A ghost unit. Specializes in going off grid, assassinations and destabilizing governments."

"How do you know this?" Shuri demanded, her brows coming down.

"He was on HYDRA's radar," Dad replied simply. "He was on a lot of radars. Especially when he went rogue and vanished completely. HYDRA probably thought they could use him. And the CIA, well," he glanced up at the strange man ahead. "They haven't had a full night's sleep since."

The short man, as if sensing someone walking over his grave, glanced over his shoulder. He jolted when his gaze met Bucky's, blood draining from his face, and quickly looked back around again.

"So he's done this before," I surmised. Assassinations. Destabilizing. Exactly what he's done here in Wakanda.

"He's never assumed power before," Dad replied. He cast a long look between us. "He'll kill you both as soon as he gets the chance."

That didn't bother me as much as I thought it would, but Shuri looked distinctly shaken.

"I tried to save my projects, or destroy them, before I left," She said, shoulders slumping. "But there wasn't time. And I just know he's using them, sending them off to his agents, outsiders, all over the world… Who knows what he'll do with them."

"You did what you could," I told her, and glanced up again. "You saved that guy. Whoever he is."

"Everett Ross," she told me, and at my look, she added, "Unrelated to your Secretary Ross. My brother pulled him from South Korea."

"CIA," Dad added.

Probably explained why Everett Ross looked like he shit his pants when he spotted Dad.

"Yes," Shuri said with a slow nod. "Better him than Zemo, I figured. I don't know if Killmonger has found him yet. But I don't particularly like his chances."

"Hm," Dad grumbled behind us. At my look, he avoided my gaze. "It's nothing. Let's just say there's a reason why HYDRA never succeeded in recruiting him."

"Oh? Interesting." Shuri blinked, taking that under consideration. Then, she glanced at me. "But you shouldn't speak so quickly. I did manage to save something."

From beneath the bulk of her blankets, she withdrew a gleam of metal. I nearly gasped, and Shuri cast a rare smile in this gloom at my reaction. "I thought you'd appreciate it. Besides, I didn't want Killmonger to make a message out of it."

"Thank you," I said, perhaps more touched than I realized. Of course, the shield had been on the back of my mind, but in the grand scheme of things I wasn't too worried about. One simple shield in a workshop filled with wonders? But I found myself relieved nonetheless. A little less naked.

Shuri had a look on her face, a knowing expression, as I slipped the harness around my back again. I frowned at her. "What?"

"Oh, nothing," She smiled faintly. "I wondered if your decision was based on circumstance, that's all."

Before I could ask her what she meant, Dad nudged me in the back. Just so, I had heard something, a faint rustling, the shifting of snow in the rocks around us. Then, before any of us could react, fur-coated warriors appeared from the darkness.

The Jabari Tribe had found us.

~o~

The throne room looked out over a cliffside, the great expanse of Wakanda beyond, swathed in night and stars. In the distance, the city of Birnin Zana gleamed like a necklace of diamonds along the great river.

"I'm sure he'll make it," I told Shuri, as we sat there, watching the moon drift behind clouds. "Nakia had that… that plant. That'll save him. Right?"

"Theoretically," Shuri whispered, her shoulders sagging in a sigh. Her fists opened and closed in her lap. "Either way, there's nothing I can do to help him. And even if he does survive, how will we fight? We have no army. Killmonger has swayed most of the tribes in his favor. Aside from the Jabari, at least. And they won't help us, even if they'll hide us."

"It's lonely, in the mountains," I pointed out. The Jabari home city was built directly into the mountains, within the rock itself. Far away and remote from the rest of the country, in an environment so different from everyone else. It was disheartening but not exactly surprising that Lord M'Baku had denied his forces to what remained of the royal family.

He had come off as hostile. initially, or at least brusque. I couldn't tell if it was an act or not, but the resentment was certainly real enough. But he did not seem taken by Killmonger's cause, anymore than he had with the royal family's at least. But loyal — or indignant — enough to not to sell them out immediately.

Somehow, Lord M'Baku had taken one look at us and knew who we were immediately. "Ah, the White Wolf! I've heard of you. A great warrior, hm? Great enough for the King to hide among his own people. An outsider! Yet fails to entreat the Jabari Tribe, one of his own. Interesting."

He was less effusive with Agent Ross; at least we had entertained him a little, so there was that.

"I know," Shuri mumbled. "I don't know why my father just… neglected the Jabari Tribe. Felt they were too… different. Never reached out. And now I suffer for it. Like we are suffering for his other mistakes. How does it go, in your language?"

It took me a moment to realize what she meant. "The sins of the father."

"Yes, yes," Shuri nodded, closing her eyes, and her hand fell over mind. Her grip was warm and tight. "We daughters pay for those sins."

And then, behind us, a muffled cry that sounded like Queen Ramonda. A rush of footsteps. Nakia sweeping out, her green robe flapping out behind her.

Her eyes, wide in the darkness. "He's awake!"

~o~

"It is time for you to leave."

"What?" I gaped, but T'Challa's expression didn't waver. Our voices echoed softly in the small hangar that opened out into the mountains, cold evening air drifting in even with the bay doors closed.

"It's not safe for you here, not anymore," he continued. Though the heart-shaped plant had saved his life and rendered him more-than human again, the King still stood with a slight lean to one side, favoring a healing injury. He winced. "I'm ashamed to be such a terrible host, I know. I made a promise, but circumstances have forced my hand. You are in more danger here than anywhere else."

"But you're not going?" I asked, shooting a look at Dad, who stood off to the side, like an unwilling participant in an intervention.

"It's… safer for me here," Dad said, and didn't sound entirely convinced himself. "The moment I step a foot outside these borders, Ross will be on me like fleas on a dog. Besides…. I can help. More than you can."

He didn't mean it as an insult, I knew, but it was in that blunt way of his. Deep down, I knew he was right. Wakanda didn't exactly feel safe to me anymore, or at least, not in the same way it used to. Now there was danger in every corner once more.

That still left logistics, as I glanced at the lone aircraft being prepared behind me. "And you think I'm going to fly that out of here myself."

Dad snorted. "No."

"Agent Ross will pilot," TChalla informed me. "Due to his status as an intelligence officer, I thought it wise he leave, too, before he can be compromised. I've been told he's an accomplished airman before he joined the CIA. He should be suitable for the task."

Said CIA agent, sitting in the background, gave a little wave. "Hi."

"You'll fly to Switzerland," T'Challa continued, pacing with a slight limp. "From there, American agents will escort you back to New York. That, we've agreed, is the safest place for you, Mia. I'm sorry. I know you don't like this. I wish things could be different."

"So I don't get a say in the matter?" I threw up my hands.

Again, Dad spoke. "No."

I threw him a look. I didn't doubt for one second that he wanted me out of the country as fast as possible. What I did doubt was everything else. "You trust him?" I asked, pointing at Ross.

The other man straightened slightly, indignant as he tugged at his jacket. He came to his feet and told me, "I assure you, Miss Fletcher, I will get you home as safe as possible. I've got over thirty thousand miles under my belt. I can fly this thing."

"So could I," I said, not the least bit sure if that was true. But I could probably figure it out, given some time. Still, I rose to my feet to emphasize those words, and found myself looming over the shorter man.

Ross swallowed and took a slight step back. Even I had overestimated my size compared to him. Ross was middle-aged and of medium stature, absolutely average in every way. He had the air of an overly-harangued desk jockey. Perfect for an undercover CIA agent. But not so much when it came to me.

I glanced at Dad again, and even he looked doubtful, shooting his own look at T'Challa, but said nothing.

"You both need to leave, for your safety," Was all the King said. He studied Ross for a moment, before adding, "Perhaps some coffee, first. Keep you on your toes, hm? After the sun sets, you take off."

That gave me about an hour to do my good-byes and pack my things, neither of which would take very long to do. Shuri, despite her brother's protests, was absolutely getting involved in whatever upcoming fight they had planned. Her workshop sat above the largest Vibranium mine, the greatest resource after the river, and closest to Birnin Zana. It would be directly under Killmonger's control, and she wanted it back.

"Of course I'd want you fighting beside me," she said, my one vote of confidence as she arranged shapes across a holographic map. Battle plans. "I've read the reports. You've gone toe to toe with the Dora Milaje. They do not forget their opponents easily. And I would've liked to see that shield in action."

"I'm sure you would," I said dryly. I had come to suspect she wanted me to take it back, as an indication of what it took for me to wield it. Of course, when I had asked her, she denied it. "I suppose you're glad your brother isn't making you come with me."

"Shh!" Shuri froze, eyes widening as she looked this way and that, before slapping my arm in annoyance. "Don't say that where he might hear you! I don't want him to get any ideas! Or my mother, for that matter."

At her slap, a chorus of tiny giggles rang out behind us. We both turned, only a little surprised, to see a gaggle of children peering around an archway. Trying to be stealthy, if there weren't five of them. They giggled even harder and tried to hide away when spotted.

"The Princess!" One whispered. "It's really her!"

"Oh, she's so pretty!"

"Who's the white one? She looks sick!"

"Shh, that's rude!"

"She's not sick, she's just like that!" Another replied, before lowering his register. "Ngumntwana wengcuka."

"There's that word again," I said, certain I've heard the phrase, or a part of it, before. "What does it mean?"

Shuri shot me a look, a barely contained smile. Ever since her brother was revived, her mood had improved immensely, and I felt that cheekish humor rising back again. "Oh, I wouldn't worry about it."

Well, now I was definitely going to worry about it the way she was saying that. I tried to hide it as best I could. "What? What does it mean?"

The children were still giggling and whispering behind us, more comments on our appearances. Shuri's cool clothes, my shield, our various hair types and styles. Shuri finally made a shooing gesture at them, partly playful, and the children scattered. Then, turning to me again, she said, "There's a few different meanings. Wolf Child or Wolf-Pup is a direct translation, but in Wakandan colloquially it means," She snickered, "Baby Wolf."

I stared at her. "You're really enjoying this, aren't you?"

"A little!"

"You are not calling me that," I said, and then added, "In front of your brother."

"But it's funny!"

"It is not."

~o~

I said my good-byes to Dad last.

I stood on the gangplank of the Wakandan airship. Small but powerful, enough to take us to Europe. I wondered if Agent Ross really could pilot it like he said he could.

I wondered if I could overpower him. If that was a nice thing to do.

Dad approached me slowly.

"I know you're mad at me." He said.

"I'm not mad," I said, and had to resist the urge to stomp my foot like a small child. It was a close thing. I inhaled deeply, about to find words to argue, before reconsidering it. "I'm just… I don't know. Disappointed. I don't want to fight. I just don't want to leave. Can't I stay here, with the Jabari?"

But Dad shook his head. "Housing the royal family will make Lord M'Baku enough of a target. Besides, you don't have anything to worry about on the outside. Not the same way I do, at least. Ross — the scary one — he won't come after you. I'm the one he wants."

Somehow, I wasn't entirely convinced Thunderbolt Ross wouldn't take his shot at me if he thought it could get him closer to Dad.

"Besides," He added, with a half-smile as he leaned in slightly, a conspiratorial sparkle in his eye. "I heard there's a new team that needs a leader."

"Oh, not you too," I grumbled, but I had to admit, it was nice coming from Dad. He knew my friends, most of them, at least. Then I threw him a knowing look, "Like you'd ever give me permission to cause trouble."

"Absolutely not," He replied immediately, stern; just as I thought. An arm came around my shoulder, half a hug, half teasing. "But I know you. I know you miss them. And they miss you. Go home, Mia. I'll be okay. I promise."

"And you'll let me know, then?" I asked, trying to blink away the sudden burning in my eyes. "If it works?"

Dad looked down at me, his expression solemn at first, a flicker in his eyes. A hope he didn't want to give me too much of. "Of course. You'll be the first to know." He tapped his wrist, marking the same bracelet I wore. Our mode of communication, more secure than any device I'd find in America. Or anywhere else for that matter. "When this is over, I'll contact you. Not before. You know how it goes."

"I do." I murmured. For all intents and purposes, we had to go radio silent with each other, to maintain security. With Killmonger on the throne, any digital communication may be monitored. Even if it's Shuri's encryption.

Especially if it's Shuri's encryption.

"All aboard!" Ross called, imitating a train conductor as he walked back out from inside the airship. He looked cocky at first, before losing his gumption at the sight of us. Probably realizing that kind of attitude wasn't a great look for a man escorting a father's child. He coughed, cleared his throat, and approached the man he'd only ever known as the Winter Soldier with an outstretched hand. It trembled slightly. "I'll get her home safe, I promise. Sir."

Dad looked him up and down slowly. Eyebrows raising higher and higher on his head, before finally accepting the handshake, if only briefly. Whatever thought he had, whatever judgment he made of this man, his capabilities, Dad kept to himself. "For both our sake's, I hope you do."

Ross swallowed, smiled painfully, before ducking back into the hull again. Dad called after him, "Don't let her bully you too much."

Then, to me. "Don't bully him, Mia."

"What?" I gaped, affronted. "I wasn't going to do anything!"

"Better not be," he muttered, and kissed the top of my head, speaking into my hair. "Bust your ass if I find you snuck back in."

I knew he didn't actually mean it. I also knew if anyone caught me, it would be my own father. "I wasn't thinking it, I promise."

I had been thinking about it, a little. But had already determined that it wouldn't be my best course of action.

There had been a lot for me to think about, these past twenty four hours. Everything I had endured this past month. The life I was bound to return to. Everything left unsaid in between. I found myself at a loss for words, knowing I should tell Dad, knowing we needed that discussion — but too afraid.

But if I waited too long, it would only be worse. And maybe, just maybe, there wouldn't be another chance to say it.

I hugged him, suddenly, both arms wrapped around Dad's neck. It took him by surprise, the way his weight shifted back. But he recovered quickly, arms wrapping around me. His metal half gentler than the flesh, creating an uneven but familiar pressure. "Hey, it's okay. Nothing's gonna happen to me."

"I know," I whispered into his shoulder. I was a little worried, sure, but in the end I didn't think this would be the final resting place of the Winter Soldier. He was still way too scary for that, in my opinion. "I'm going to miss you."

It would be our first time apart in weeks.

My first time home, without him.

Not having that place anymore.

I closed my eyes, and I could see those pages burning in the fire.

"I was in it," I whispered, before I could stop myself. "I was in the book."

The words rush out of me so fast I wasn't sure if he could understand, much less hear the way my voice muffled against his jacket. But the way Dad froze beneath me, I knew he had. He hadn't been expecting it. Immediately, I already regretted saying it, and knew there was no chance to recover, not as Ross called behind us, time for take-off.

I pulled back, mouth dry, wishing I could take it back. Dad's expression had changed again, something I couldn't read. The expression I've only seen a few times before; when he'd set his mind to something.

When he made the choice to kill.

I wilted. "I'm sorry. I should've told you before."

"No." Dad's voice was short, but quiet. He paused, shook his head, and gave me a faint smile that didn't reach his eyes. "No, you're fine, Monkey. Now go. Be safe."

I was surprised, baffled even, so much so that I did as he said without question, turning on my heel and walking onto the aircraft as its engines heated up. Dad remained in the hangar, watching as we took off, and giving one short wave before we disappeared into the clouds.

Gone.