Too Little Too Late

Sam Wilson / T'Challa / Scott Lang

Sam was pretty sure he was dead five minutes ago. But he was back now watching Tony Stark reviving Vision. The logic wanted that Iron Man had saved them all, considering he was still wearing the gauntlet, four stones still on. He hadn't seen the whole fight with him being dead and all, but they had been losing until that point. Now, what had been a battlefield was back being a nice street of New York. As if nothing happened at all. And then, without a word, Tony in his new shiny armour disappeared in a beam of light with the young Spiderman. Sam understood. A lot of things has been said about Tony. Few were true.

Steve was unhappy. It was written all over his face. Sam already knew what the Captain would say about their situation and Stark and he didn't want to hear it. They had been wrong about Tony for a long time. The first Avengers ever more so than Sam actually. Sam was relatively new to the team. Not that he would not take his part of responsibility. The Falcon went to find the rest of the team. Nobody was saying anything. They would go back to the compound and rest. Maybe after some sleep, everything would be a little bit clearer for everybody. One thing was sure, Sam didn't want to be an Avenger anymore. Not the way they were before. The wings would be great during a natural disaster kind of situation, search and rescue just like what they were built to do.

Steve had wanted to talk to his team about what would happen next. He only stopped when Barnes told him to. He had exasperated everyone by then. Except Natasha maybe. Even Clint didn't want to hear any of it. If Sam had a little of his hero-worshipping left, it would really have died now. He wished he could apologise to Stark. He wished that so many things would have been different. Sam should have been thinking with his own mind from the start instead of being a follower. Captain America's biggest superpower was not his strength or his healing. It was his charisma, that way he had to be so sure about his opinions that you would just hesitate about your own and then go along with Rogers with that kind of certainty.

T'Challa was a King. He had been raised to be a ruler. He had a temper, he would not deny that. What a blow to his ego to have been manipulated like that. First by the Widow and then by the Captain. He had been too sure of himself and of his technology. Even if Wakanda was at the top of the technology of Earth that never meant they would match up with aliens. Their shields had not lasted long. Even the Black Panther had not been very helpful when facing that kind of numbers. This invasion had been a lesson in humility. Hopefully, this ordeal would make him a better king. He wouldn't stop at one's image now. Tony Stark's public persona might have been obnoxious and loud when Captain America's had been strong and rightful. Steve Rogers' stubbornness could have cost half the universe. Whether he liked it or not, T'Challa was partly responsible. Dying, even for a minute, tended to put everything back into perspective.

The King would have to go back to his country now. Wakanda was not happy with him. First, he would have wanted to meet with Rhodey. It was known, within the compound, that the colonel was going to where Tony was every night. T'Challa wouldn't ask for an audience. He didn't have the right to. But maybe, Rhodes would agree to pass a message. Rhodes didn't seem really happy with that request. Apparently, the young king wasn't the first one to ask him something similar. He was also gently reminded that even if that message were excuses, Tony was in no obligation to accept them. The man had suffered enough. He should be the only one who you should decide what to do next.

Scott Lang had given his message to the Colonel. That had been a hell of an awkward conversation. Still, Cassie had drawn on that page especially for her favourite hero, Iron Man. Scott didn't know if a little girl drawing would mean anything to Tony Stark. Or his apologies however sincere they were. Good decisions weren't often the easiest. At least, he had learnt that. Life wasn't going back exactly to the way it was before. It wasn't harder either. The economy wasn't worse than before the invasion. Jobs weren't destroyed but weren't created either. Perhaps everybody thought the things would change radically. Scott was now working with the U.N. as an Avengers and as a liaison. He could see his daughter regularly. Hope and he were going steady and he was friendly enough with his ex. Life had been good with him. But now he knew everything could disappear with a snap of someone else's fingers. They all knew that now.