A year to Remember. Part 1, the Wrong Number

Spitfire Shuri

Peter POV:

I hear footsteps approaching before a figure comes into view, still to dazed by the blood loss and probably a concussion courtesy of Cap, I can't make them out, my vision growing fuzzier by the second. "H-help!" I cough before I plead "please *cough*, dont t-take off th-the mask", as I pass out.

Shuri POV:

"It's time to catch a spider"

I'm so excited, I didn't travel like ten thousand kilometres to New York to NOT meet Spider-Man. I quickly make it to my car, already with the route programmed in, and speed out of the Wakandan Embassy off to Queens.

40 minutes and I'm about a block away before my directions change, he's running, 10 blocks west. Quickly racing off to the Alley where he stopped, I park by the entry and run in. My excitement dies suddenly once I see him, beaten, bloody.

"h-help", he asks as I pull up the latest footage from the drone through my glasses. He was fighting the Avengers? They did this to him? Why? "please *cough*, dont t-take off th-the mask" is the last thing he says before his head droops. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

Spider-Man's passed out in front of me! Dying! And the Avenger's are after him? Why?

I don't get much time to ruminate in my thoughts as I hear the distinct sound of repulser propulsion near by; Iron-Man's coming. I drop down to Spider-Man's level, pulling his arm over my shoulder, before lifting and carrying him back to my car. I don't know what's going on, but I can't let him die and if Stank gets his hands on him I'll never know.

As I lay him down in the back seat, he groans in pain. Note, 'drive gently, don't want to cause more damage' I think as I jump in the driver's seat before — safely — speeding off and back to the embassy. If anyone can help him, it's us. When I'm 5 minutes away, I send a message ahead to get a medic team ready, specifying it's not for me to avoid brother getting a heart attack. I need them to be ready minute 1.

They are. The second I stop the car, there's 3 doctors with a gurney ready and by the door. "A friend got hurt, badly, Let's save this broken white boy", I order, (she saw through the singed suit and the skin burn). "Of course your highness", The lead doctor replies as we all run off to the Embassy's medical rooms, "what's his condition?" She asks.

"I don't know!", I exasperate, "I found him in an alley, burn marks, cuts, seemed disoriented too might have a concussion". I try and recall as much as I can. "Oh, and no removing the mask", I add, more sternly this time. He asked to keep it on, and He deserves to have that respected. At least until he wakes.

As we all make it into the room, I help run some scans while the rest book him up and cut off his suit from the neck down before beginning to work on his injuries.

After a couple of hours of work, getting a bullet wound out, stitching like 8 different cuts or injuries, and struggling for a minute to get his anaesthesia dose right, we leave him to rest. He's going to need time to sleep off the drugs, and the injuries.

I order the attendees to alert me if he shows signs of waking up before heading to my lab. "Shuri", a voice startles me as I enter. "Brother".

"What were you doing?", He asks, exhaustion in his voice. "Nothing Brother, whyever would you ask" I return sweetly, he remains unconvinced. "Really, then Why was I informed that my sister requested a medical team for assistance. Assistance that lasted until 5 minutes ago. Shuri?".

Curse him, overprotective "I'm fine brother, don't worry".

"I know you're fine Shuri, security would've alerted me otherwise. It's the only reason I waited here instead of barging into the medical rooms looking for you", Brother explains, a nicer tone to his voice.