III: The Soldier and the Fairy Queen: Red Eve

VII: In which Sam is Amazed at the Sleep Habits of Superheroes

Steve closed his sketchbook and rolled off the bed. Sunny had given it to him for Christmas, and he dedicated the creamy white paper to drawings of her and Buck. It was filling up at a extreme rate, faster than he wanted to admit. He opened the door slowly, searching the hallway. He'd thought he heard the sound of glass breaking on the other side of the house. He wandered down the hall, and winced at the loud sound of his own feet. A muffled gunshot bled through the walls.

Sam's door opened behind him, "What was that? Don't you guys ever sleep? It's like four a.m.!"

Steve ignored him and started jogging. He went through the living room, the kitchen, and the parlour before getting to the girl's rooms. "Hello?" He called down the hallway.

Wanda's and Nat's doors opened at the same time. "You guys heard that too?" Nat said, coming out of her bed room in a black bathrobe.

"Heard what?" Wanda asked, looking at their faces. Someone, maybe Sam, answered her, but Steve could barely hear it. Only one person hadn't appeared.

Steve continued down to Sunny's bedroom. Hers was secluded from the others. He'd noticed it the night before, but hadn't thought to ask her about it. He grabbed the brass knob of her door and tried to open it. The knob rattled, but didn't turn.

"Look, Steve, what if she's naked or something? We probably shouldn't--," Sam started.

Steve leaned against the door. He heard the ancient wood splinter and the door swung open.

"Go in. Okay. It's too early for this, people!" Sam said incredulously.

Steve looked in and shivered. The room looked normal. Pictures still covered the walls. Her rifle stood next to the door. Her tiny bed was made up, and the little gold lamp was still on the side table. But the window hung open, letting the cold air in. A picture frame laid facedown on the floor, glass scattered around it. A crumpled little white piece of paper sat on top of the mess.

Nat walked into the room ahead of him to the window. She looked out and sighed, "Well. She's not dead. He is." She pointed to the ground. Steve walked up beside her and saw a crumpled form on the ground. A spray of black led to him. Blood.

She closed the window and turned back to Steve. Nat's eyebrows creased when she looked at his face. She put her hand on his shoulder, "Hey, Rogers. We need you back on planet Earth." Steve stared at her eyes but didn't respond, taking in this chain of events.

Sam broke the short-lived silence, "This says we should look in her top drawer." Wanda took the note from his hand and picked up the picture frame from the floor, setting it back on the bedside table.

Steve tried to move, to walk forward, to anything, but he was stuck. Despair had a chokehold on him. He recalled when he thought he had lost Bucky, and the feelings matched. Nat walked over to Sunny's dresser and opened the top drawers. Ladies undergarments, socks, more socks.

Sam opened her bedside table. He let out a little sigh, and reached inside the drawer, withdrawing a thick stack of manila folders, "Steve, I thought you said she was a cleared SHIELD agent."

Steve took them out of his hands and peered at the top one. It was stamped with a huge red word. 'Terminated'. On the top right corner was a familiar symbol. A red skull and tentacles. Steve cleared his throat, "Suit up, team. Grab everything. We're going to Wakanda."

*****

The Quinjet hummed under Steve's feet as the team touched down in green, sunny Wakanda. The door opened to two figures. Shuri and a Dora Milaje, Okoye, if Steve remembered correctly. Steve breathed the fresh air and let the sun absorb into his skin as they walked to meet the women.

Shuri waved and smiled, "T'Challa's still inside, but I saw you come in. What do you need?"

Nat frowned, "We need Bucky."

Shuri frowned back, adding a comical aspect in contrast to her buns, "Why?" She turned around and started heading toward the fortress.

Sam shrugged, "You know, just chasing another ghost story."

"He might not be very happy to see you. I still haven't figured out how to un-brainwash him. We're trying therapy, and he does not like it."

"We have something bigger than that to worry about now." Steve said, thinking about the stack of folders they had shuffled through in the Jet.

Okoye spoke for the first time, her red-beaded uniform shining in the sun, "What could be more important than this?"

Nat shrugged, "A not-so-dead assassin with over five hundred notches in her belt who's never been caught being abducted, maybe?"

Okoye stopped walking and faced the group. Her lips were pursed and her arms, crossed, "Please tell me you are not serious."

"Nope," Nat lifted her hands.