salvation ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 , 𝟐

027. nearly there [clean]

— warning: this chapter includes a teensy bit of
mature content but it's pretty pg or
pg-13. still, read with caution and
don't say i didn't warn you.
p.s. if you want the NSFW stuff,
go down to the next chapter! it's
a carbon copy of this, just with
more detail.

THE JET LANDED swiftly, the green of Wakanda's landscape shaking me from my empty mind space. I hadn't thought of much of anything ever since we boarded. Well, that was a minor lie. After I noticed that the rain had stopped its assault on my tired body, I had nothing to distract me from seeing my parents fall to their death, over and over and over again.

"They...they're dead," Cade had mumbled as we flew over the ocean, on our way to Africa. "I can't believe they're dead." He had done little more than hover by my side for the entire trip, refusing to leave me alone. Between my clingy brother and my man-of-few-words boyfriend, I hardly had time to think by myself.

But, nonetheless, my parents' death wrestled their way into my head, demanding that I watch the scene long enough to make me feel bad, to make me feel guilty, to make me feel anything. Because that was the problem. I wasn't feeling.

There was a dark-skinned man there on the ground to greet us, his dark purple robes indicating his status. Though I didn't like to pay very close attention to international politics, this man's face was one I remembered. T'Challa, King of Wakanda, had come to welcome us to his country.

As we were ushered off of the aircraft and into the warm air of the African country, I tried to make my mind go empty, losing every thought in my head. And it worked, as it would for the next few hours. I was blissfully oblivious to the fact that I had just seen my parents killed, left to rot at the bottom of a chasm in the deep underground of a corrupt, rogue organization built on the history of Hydra.

"Welcome, Captain," the king said smoothly, holding out a hand to shake Steve's. I was only a little surprised that the latter wasn't as disgruntled at the use of his former title as he usually was around the rest of us, but I supposed it was because a king was using it. Everyone knew that arguing with a king was a bad way to go, historically speaking. T'Challa sweeped his eyes over the band of misfits standing before him as his all-female guard. "I hope everyone has come back safely."

Steve nodded deeply, smiling softly. "We're a little shaken up, but it's nothing a few drinks and a visit with your sister can't fix." He cast his gaze to me, still supporting my distraught brother and mute boyfriend. With one look at the three of us, by far the most damaged luggage on the jet, his smile dropped, melancholy clouding over his eyes.

Flicking his head, the king gave a silent order to the woman standing next to him, clad in golden rings and red cloth. Then he dropped his eyes to mine, his tall stature hanging over me. "Welcome to Wakanda," he greeted as his adviser retreated behind him to the vast architectural masterpiece which I assumed was their palace. "I see we are in the blessed company of the White Wolf again," he added with a warm smile. His accent was thick, the words sounded strange rolling off his tongue.

I glanced at the dark-haired man slumped beside me, his lips still forming Steve's name, alternating with mine. He squeezes his eyes shut, only opening them when I dig through my grief to brush my hand with his. The skin-to-skin contact seemingly awakes him from his trance. He stares at me before shifting his head to the Wakandan king.

"He's..." I struggle to describe his condition. "Not good," I finished.

But the king didn't seem put off by the sight of him. "Shuri will tend to him. He'll be better in no time."

That just sounded like empty promises that doctors gave people with stage five cancer, but I fought to keep myself from rolling my eyes in the presence of a king. Instead, I nodded and gritted my teeth.