REUNITED ~ STEVE ROGERS [4]

Chapter Nineteen

T'Challa and Eric stood opposite each other, muscles tense. In one hand Eric had a sword, and in the other the broken off head of a spear. Surrounding the challenge pool were the Tribal Elders, W'Kabi, Zuri, Mama, Shuri, The Dora and myself.

The stands were empty. No one but us to watch the fight that would determine the fate of Wakanda.

"He will never beat T'Challa. He should have just come to the first challenge and gotten it over with." Shuri was confident and fierce, and she missed the worried look I shared with Mama. T'Challa was strong, brave. He had learned to fight with grace and mercy, a sophisticated dance. But Eric had been trained by the same people I had. T'Challa and Shuri knew nothing of the anger and suffering that was etched into you by the rest of the world. Like me, Eric would fight with teeth and nails, and without mercy. To fight without mercy was not something T'Challa understood, but I was afraid he would know it after today.

Zuri gives T'Challa the herbal drink, and I watched his power drain away with a bad feeling in my stomach.

"The King will now have the power of the black panther stripped away."

Shuri held my hand all of a sudden, squeezing it tight. She had so much faith, so much belief. I don't think I remembered a time I had ever been like that. If I had, it was a long time ago, in another life.

Zuri couldn't look Eric in the eyes, face to the ground in shame.

I heard footsteps and turned to see Nakia arrives down the steps, and she whispered to Okoye who nodded in response.

T'Challa stood tall, shield and spear in hand, the last effects of the herbal mixture leaving him.

"This is your last chance. Throw down your weapons and we can handle this another way." T'Challa's offer of peace made Eric's face contort with rage and he threw his blade into the stone.

"I lived my entire life waiting for this moment. I trained, I lied, I killed, just to get here." Eric spat his words, not a muscle trembling, just pure, unaltered rage. He ripped off his shirt, and I gasped lightly at the sight of his body. Covered in sanctification marks, hundreds of them, each raised scar representing a life.

"I killed in America, Afghanistan, Iraq. I took life from my own brothers and sisters right here on this continent. And all this death, just so I can kill you."

His pain, his anger and his passion boiled over. I could feel it in my bones, in my very being, because I knew it, and suddenly I felt less scared and more sorry.

Zuri looked at T'Challa reluctantly, and I knew in my chest this wasn't going to end well.

"Let the challenge begin."

I could tell you every detail of that fight, every strike and defense. I could play it out in my head a thousand time, I could recreate it in the middle of the night. I could imagine every alternative scenario, every different move, but it would always end the same, and somehow I can't tell you. I can't type the words, I can't explain the terror I felt in my body as it played out. It is a memory drenched in fear and blood, and for that I must skip to the end, to the part that matters the most.

My brother was drenched in blood, and I in sweat. I imagine both our hearts were beating fast, and my eyes were wide with fear that gripped me so tight I could barely stand.

Eric punched T'Challa over and over and over, never breaking his rhythm, never stopping until T'Challa toppled over. Shuri's grip was strong enough to break my hand but I barely felt it. I knew I could stop him. One thrust of my hand and Eric would have a hole the size of a bowling ball in his chest and he would fall over the edge of the waterfall, and the people would never know the difference. But when my good hand burned white hot and I caught my brothers eye, he shook his head, and despite my desires I decided to follow his lead.

Oh how I would regret that.

Eric lifted his blade to deliver the fatal blow, and I shut my eyes. I couldn't watch it. Then I heard the blade shift, and when I opened my eyes there was Zuri, blocking Eric's kill attempt with his staff.

"Zuri, no."

"Zuri!"

"Zuri, don't!"

Three voices, but none of them heard.

"I am the cause of your father's death. Not him. Take me."

Zuri's voice was so soft, full of grief and regret. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, with fear. I could feel it on my skin like electricity, and I was holding my breathe. We all were.

Eric grabbed Zuri's staff and T'Challa tried to get up but failed, weak.

"Ill take you both, Uncle James." Eric spat, and in one swift movement the blade was buried deep in Zuri's body and he fell into the shallows, hands gripping the handle. My stomach dropped and Mama cried out. Shuri covered her mouth with one hand, and the Tribal Leaders stared on, horrified.

"No! Zuri, no! Zuri! NO!" T'Challa cried out in anguish, and fuelled by fresh grief and anger he leapt to his feet, charging Eric who dodged T'Challa's sloppy attack easily.

"Is this your King, huh?" Eric yelled. He ducked another swing from T'Challa, and my chest got tighter.

"Is this your King? The Black Panther, who's supposed to lead you into the future?" Eric tormented his with his words.

"Come on brother!" Shuri cried, voice cracking.

"Is there nothing that can be done?" I heard Ayo whisper to Okoye, and when I turned my head she only stared at me blankly. She had seen T'Challa's response to my burning hands. She knew I wouldn't disobey him, not now.

"Him? He's supposed to protect you." Eric looked me dead in the eye, as if he knew. And maybe he did.

Eric moved away as T'Challa tried again to strike him, and instead scooped him up on his shoulder with ease and moved to the edge of the pool, the water thundering downwards.

"No." Mama said softly.

"No!" Nakia yelled.

"No." Shuri whispered.

No, my heart screamed.

And with that, Eric threw my brother off the edge of the waterfall, effortlessly, without a care in the world.

My mother wailed, every fiber in her being torn apart. Shuri crumpled beside me.

And I stood still, tall, hands balled into fists, lips pressed together while my heart exploded, tears streaming down an emotionless face.

Eric stared right at me, into my very marrow, and he chuckled.

"Nah. I'm your King."

Authors Note

I got over my writers block I guess?? Still not in a great place so excuse the quality of this chapter, I might come back and edit it another time. So uh yeah, comment and stuff I suppose lol.

Stay groovy my lovelies,

~JJ