Blood & Honor||Bucky Barnes FF

Broken Bones

The fight was over.

What remained of the airport was nothing more than rubble and ash, a broken landscape that mirrored the fractured alliances left in the wake of the battle. Smoke still rose from the crumbled tower and shattered glass littered the ground like scattered fragments of a once-clear path forward. The air was thick with the lingering tension of the clash, and the dust hadn't fully settled—neither had the hearts of those involved.

Steve Rogers and James Barnes had disappeared into the chaos, escaping in the Quinjet. Amari's eyes scanned the horizon, knowing they were far beyond reach now, but the sinking feeling in her gut remained.

Rhodes had been taken to the hospital, Stark at his side, a cold reality setting in as medics loaded War Machine's broken body into the transport. The prognosis was grim—Rhodes might never walk again. Amari had seen the look on Tony's face before he left: hollow, angry, desperate. It was the kind of pain that twisted a person from the inside out, and she couldn't shake the image of him kneeling beside his fallen friend.

The German police swarmed in, rounding up Rogers' allies, dragging them from the remains of the airport. Barton, Maximoff, Lang, Wilson—all of them bound in handcuffs, heads bowed. 'Sometimes you need to lose the battle to win the war', was all that Wilson said as he walked past T'Challa and Amari. T'Challa also told the police about Natasha stopping him from getting to Rogers and Barnes.

Amari watched it all unfold in silence. Her spear was still clutched tightly in her hand, though the battle had ended. Spider-Man, the kid who'd fought with surprising skill and nerve, had already been picked up by Stark's driver, Happy. Amari had noticed the weariness in the boy's body language, despite his quips and youthful energy. He was just a child, caught in a war too big for him. Another casualty of this schism.

Vision and Natasha had left as well, heading also to the hospital to support their friends. Natasha had lingered for a moment, her eyes meeting Amari's. It was a look of regret, but also resolve. There was no undoing what had been done, she let Rogers and Barnes escape, holding her brother back at getting to them. Amari had nodded, though no words passed between them. Natasha departed silently, leaving Amari and her brother alone.

T'Challa stood beside her, the quiet hum of his suit barely audible over the wind that swept through the desolate wreckage. His eyes were fixed on the horizon, where the Quinjet had disappeared with Rogers and Barnes. His posture was as steady as ever, but Amari knew her brother well. Beneath the calm, there was conflict. She could feel it.

"We did what we could," Amari finally said, her voice low and measured. T'Challa glanced at her, his brow furrowing. "Did we?"

Amari turned to her, his eyes softening for a moment. „Yes, we will get Barnes eventually."

He nodded. The truth was, they had come to this fight seeking vengeance. But what they had found here was something different. A war between those who had once stood united, now fractured into opposing sides, leaving destruction in its wake. It wasn't the battle they hadn't  expected. And it hadn't ended with the justice they hoped for.

She sighed, her grip on the spear tightening for a brief moment before she relaxed. "It feels... wrong. Watching them tear each other apart like this. The Avengers are supposed to protect the world, and now they're fighting each other. And the trigger was something that should keep them together. It's ironic."

T'Challa was quiet for a long moment, his jaw set. "The world is changing. What's happening now—this division—it's not something we can stop with force. No spear, no suit, no law will fix this." He paused, his expression hardening. "But we will protect Wakanda. We will see justice done." Amari stared out at the wreckage once more. "And what about after?" T'Challa didn't answer immediately, his gaze distant. When he finally spoke, his voice was steady, though there was an edge to it. "After, we rebuild. But for now, we continue. We make sure those responsible for tearing us apart are held accountable."

They stood side by side, silent amid the ruins of what had once been a bustling airport. Now, it was only rubble, debris, and ash—a stark monument to the broken trust between the world's greatest heroes. The scene that unfolded earlier, filled with battle cries, fractured loyalties, and unforgivable consequences, had finally given way to an uneasy stillness. The silence between them, Amari and T'Challa, was not one born of anger, but of understanding.

The fight had ended, but the war—one driven by a fractured Avengers team, the pursuit of Barnes, and the looming threat of deeper chaos—was far from over.

Without a word, they turned, their mission pulling them away from the wreckage. Together, they walked towards the jet, the tension of the moment still weighing heavily on their shoulders.

"We need a new lead on Rogers and Barnes," T'Challa said, his voice steady but laced with determination as he ascended the ramp into the sleek Wakandan jet.

Amari nodded, following closely behind, her focus sharp as ever. She was the tactical brain behind T'Challa's pursuit, the one who could get informations with precision and speed. "I'll keep up with the police updates. I'm sure if there's any movement, Stark will be the first to act. When he gives us a lead, we'll call Ayo for backup."

T'Challa sighed, the weight of his responsibility hanging in the air. As king and protector of Wakanda, his decisions carried more weight now than ever. He moved towards the cockpit, but his mind was elsewhere, deep in thought. Amari settled in at the vibranium sand table, a holographic display of technology at her fingertips, constantly updating and shifting as new data streamed in.

The hum of the jet filled the silence as they lifted off from the wreckage, the ground disappearing beneath them. Inside, the atmosphere was thick, though not from the cabin pressure. Amari typed furiously, pulling in data from every available source. Police reports. Stark's systems. Wakanda's surveillance networks.

After a few minutes, T'Challa finally broke the silence. "Can we get updates on Colonel Rhodes' condition as well?" His voice was steady, but there was a layer of concern underneath. Rhodes had been a good man, a soldier who didn't deserve what had happened to him.

Amari didn't look up from her work. "Already on it."

The quiet returned, a blanket of tension settling over them as Amari diligently worked through the updates. T'Challa remained seated, lost in his own thoughts, grappling with the next steps. Each minute that passed felt like an eternity, the uncertainty gnawing at them both.

Nearly two hours had slipped by before Amari finally spoke again. "Rhodes is out of surgery," she said. "Shattered vertebrae from L4 through S1. There's extreme damage to his spinal cord. The doctors believe he'll have some form of paralysis... probably permanent."

T'Challa exhaled deeply, absorbing the news. He closed his eyes briefly, wishing there were more he could do. "He did not deserve this," he murmured.

Amari glanced at her brother, her expression softening for a moment. She knew how much he hated seeing good people hurt in the crossfire of a war that should never have been fought.

Amari gave him a moment, her eyes scanning through another set of reports. "There's an update from the police," she said, breaking the silence again. "Dr. Theo Broussard from Geneva was found dead in a Berlin hotel room. He was the UN doctor dispatched to evaluate Barnes." Her voice turned sharp, sensing the gravity of what she had just found. "They also found a wig and facial prosthesis. Someone was trying to copy Barnes' appearance."

T'Challa was on his feet in an instant, his intense gaze fixed on his sister as he approached the sand table. "Is there a name for the person who booked the room?" he asked.

Amari's brow furrowed in concentration as she sifted through the details. "I can't find one. The police probably haven't published it yet." Her hands moved quickly over the display, seamlessly shifting gears. "Tracking for Stark is already running. The moment he's in the air, we'll know."

As if on cue, the system gave a small beep. A notification flashed on her screen: Stark's position had been logged.

"That didn't take long," Amari remarked, a glint of anticipation in her eyes. She glanced up at her brother. "T'Challa, get the jet on course. Stark's already moving."

Without hesitation, T'Challa moved to the controls. Maneuvering the jet to follow Tony Stark.