The White Phoenix 13: A Black Panther: Wakanda Forever Fanfiction

Epilogue: What Now?

TW: mention of self-harm

Several hours later... 

I pulled up in front of the house, not seeing any lights on. Getting out, I groaned, feeling a muscle catch in my back. I needed a massage. I trudged up the steps, and unlocked the door, stepping in. I heard something click, and my hand instinctively went to the sword laying on my back. 

'Who's there?' I heard my husband's voice say. 

'James, who else do you know that has a key to this house?' I called out wearily into the darkness. The living room overhead light flickered on, and I squinted. Bucky stared at me, placing the gun that was in his hand on the kitchen table. 

'Sorry. You know I get jumpy when it's 3AM and you didn't call in advance.' 

'I know. I got tied up. Sorry.' 

'It's okay,' he said, looking me over. I moved over to the couch, collapsing on top of it. Bucky came over, kneeling at my feet and beginning to unlace my combat boots. 'You know, you've really got to stop doing this. Almost everyone you know needs your help now.' I said nothing, simply gave him a side eye in return. 'The kids missed you.' 

'Where are they?' 

'At a school camp for the weekend.' I sat up as he began to massage the balls of my feet and I groaned in pleasure, the feeling going straight up my spine. 'But seriously, you've got to stop.' 

'I have to be available for the people I care about. You know that. I owed Shuri my life, and I had to repay the favour.' 

'Haven't you done enough for others?' he asked, stopping his ministrations and looking up at me. 'When is it time to do something for yourself?' 

'You know very well I can't do that.' I eased myself off of the couch and towards the fridge, pulling out a blood bag and tearing into it. 'Oh my God, I'm starving.' 

'When was the last time you fed?' I turned to him, still sucking on the bag eagerly, and shrugged. 'That long, huh?' I finished the bag, tossing it in the trash, and coming back over to him, seeing him sitting on the couch instead. I sat on his lap as I breathed softly, then kissed him. He traced my lips with his thumb. 'I'm sorry, Adelaide. You just - you keep leaving, and it's a lot. I hate not seeing you for days on end. It feels like you're doing too much. I want to help you, but I don't know how. When I heard you got arrested by the CIA just this week, I wanted to help break you out, but I knew you could do it yourself, so I stayed out of it.' 

'It'd ruin your public record if you did.' 

'It's not about that. What is going on with you?' 

'I'm trying to atone. Helping all of the people who helped me, people who I owe something, it - it makes the thoughts go away.' I peeled myself away from him, going over to stare at the dying embers of the fireplace. 

'Makes what thoughts go away?' 

'All the horrible things I want to do to myself for what I did.' 

'This is about the Angel, isn't it? Adelaide, you weren't in control.' 

'But I didn't exactly jump at the chance to have her gone either, did I?' I spat, turning to face him. 'Let me answer that question for you; I didn't. And I hate myself for that.' 

'You want to hurt yourself.' 

'I don't just want to hurt myself. I want to die. It feels like - when I'm doing stuff like avenging, or helping people, or defeating the bad guys... I feel alive. I feel like myself. When I'm not doing anything, I feel empty. I can't keep sitting and resting, because I feel like I'm going to tear myself apart if I do. So I have to keep moving.' 

'Their battles aren't yours.'  

'Don't tell me that!' I exclaimed, and the lights above flickered. He got to his feet, taking two cautious steps towards me. 

'Calm down. Calm down. It's okay. I'm not trying to hurt you.' I blinked furiously, feeling the familiar tingle behind my eyes, indicating that they were changing. I let out an almost inhuman snarl, and I felt my fangs slightly descend from my gums. 'Adelaide, calm down. I'm not your enemy.' I blinked again and breathed, turning away from him and towards the fireplace, bracing against the mantle, exhausted. 'Look, how about we take a bath, and we go to bed?' He didn't dare touch me. I knew it. I took a few deep breaths and moved away from the fireplace, leaning into his embrace. Just as we were about to trudge up the stairs, we heard a knock on the door. Bucky grabbed the gun on the kitchen table, and I moved away from Bucky, unsheathing my sword from the scabbard on my back. I nodded to Bucky, and he went to the door, unlocking it. He looked through the peephole, and then turned to me and shook his head. I sent him a brain message. 

Is it a threat or not? 

No. It's just a girl, he replied. 

That doesn't mean anything. 

She looks harmless. 

I propped my sword up against the couch, and Bucky placed his gun on the mantle, opening the door cautiously. On our doorstep was a young teenager, not much younger than Emily, who had her arms wrapped around herself, visibly shivering. 

'I'm sorry to bother you, but I need help,' she said softly. Bucky looked at her, then at me. 

'What's your name, kid?' he asked. 

'Jayne. My name is Jayne.' Bucky stepped back, and he opened the door wider. 

'You need help?' I asked. She nodded. 

'My foster family - they kicked me out. It's cold, and there isn't anywhere to sleep. The homeless shelters are all full.' Bucky and I looked at each other again, and I extended my hand to her. 

'Come on,' I said softly, and she placed her hand in mine. 'Come inside. You're more than welcome to stay.' I ushered her inside, and looked out the door for anything amiss, and when I found nothing, I shut the door and locked it securely, then leaned back against the door. I rubbed my hands across my face with an exhausted sigh. 'What now?' I asked. 

'I don't know.'