UNKNOWN GUEST

#90 Heading To Wakanda

Steve slumped into the seat next to Natasha, letting out a deep sigh. The jet hummed steadily beneath them as it cut through the sky. Natasha's gaze flickered to the pilot seat, where a man sat, focused on steering the aircraft. She tilted her head slightly in Steve's direction, curiosity tugging at her thoughts.

"Who's that?" she asked, nodding toward the front.

Steve glanced up lazily, his eyes following her line of sight. "Oh, him? He's from Wakanda. T'Challa sent him with me. Thought we could use the backup." He shifted in his seat, trying to get comfortable. "Now we're heading there. Nick wants to meet him."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Nick wants to meet T'Challa? Why?"

Steve shrugged as if the question wasn't all that pressing. "No idea."

There was a pause between them, the hum of the jet and the steady rhythm of its flight the only sounds breaking the silence. Natasha's gaze, however, was fixed on Jason, lying across from them, unconscious and bandaged up. The sight stirred something in her—concern, confusion, maybe a hint of unease.

She sighed softly. "What happened to his hands?" she asked, nodding toward Jason's palms, wrapped in layers of bandages.

Steve's expression softened, and he let out another sigh. "Wanda had this electric ring around her neck, one of those nasty restraining things. We didn't have much time, and Jason..." Steve shook his head slightly, clearly still in disbelief. "Jason suggested we just snap it off with our bare hands."

Natasha's eyes widened a fraction, absorbing the explanation. She nodded, her lips pressed together in a tight line. "He's... a bit strange, isn't he?" she mused, more to herself than to Steve.

Steve let out a small chuckle. "A bit? That's putting it lightly. I was shocked when I saw him at the Raft." He rubbed his neck thoughtfully, glancing back at Jason. "How he managed to close that huge metal door on his own... it's weird. I don't even know if I could've done it myself."

Natasha sat still, her mind quietly whirring as Steve spoke. The more she thought about it, the clearer it became. The odd strength Jason displayed, the quick healing, the occasional slip-ups with words like "Mom" and "Dad"—it all added up. Her gut had been nudging her for a while now, but she'd been ignoring it, brushing it off as mere coincidence. But coincidence after coincidence was starting to pile up, and it was getting hard to ignore.

As Steve continued to talk, Natasha found herself staring blankly at Jason, her mind peeling back the layers one by one. Jason is not just Jason, she thought, each clue falling into place like pieces of a puzzle that had been scattered in front of her for far too long.

Natasha let out a soft sigh, her eyes flicking back to Steve. "What happened between you and Tony?"

Steve's shoulders slumped, and he rubbed the back of his neck, as if the weight of the question had already exhausted him. "Well... it's over," he started, his voice carrying a heavy note of regret. "He found out that Bucky was the Winter Soldier who killed his father and mother. He tried to kill Bucky, and I stopped him. And... things went wrong. Horribly."

Natasha nodded, her gaze dropping to the floor, fingers lightly tracing the seam of her pants. "Do you think we should have told him everything?"

Steve exhaled deeply, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know, Nat. I'm not sure his reaction would've been any different than how it was. He probably would've still hated me."

She considered his words for a moment, eyes distant as she stared down at her boots. "Guess we betrayed him, then."

Steve frowned, turning to her with concern. "Nat, why would you say—"