Project 43: Healing

(+212)

"We'll meet again," T'Challa said as he firmly placed his hand on Elias' shoulder. He had arranged a jet to take Elias to Casablanca where he could continue on where he pleased.

Elias was going to miss the people in the palace behind him. He had grown to like Bucky's silent company, joking around with Shuri, and the deep conversations he would always find himself in around T'Challa. Still, he knew that it was time for him to move again.

"I know we will," Elias responded with a tight nod. "We'll probably both be around the next time my brother does something idiotic."

"Well, let's hope we'll fight on the same side next time," T'Challa chuckled.

"Let's hope that we see each other before we have to fight again," Elias pointed out making his friend laugh.

"'Till next time," Elias nodded to Shuri and Bucky as the two walked up to him and T'Challa.

"Aye aye, Captain," the young princess responded along with a mocking salute.

"If you see Steve, tell him I said hi," Bucky asked with a faint smile.

"Sure," Elias smiled and lightly hit his friend's arm.

Elias could see the toll of his treatments showing on Bucky's face. Trying to completely reprogram ones mind was going to be rough and Bucky had been forced to live through the worst moments of his life again. His under eyes were a couple of shades deeper than they had been a week earlier and he stopped looking around as much, walking around even more deflated than before. Still, Elias could see the pain behind the man's eyes slowly chipping away.

Casablanca was nowhere near as colorful as Wakanda. It wasn't dark but simply lacked the vivid colors and happy faces Elias had been surrounded with for weeks. A daunting raincloud had covered the sky, suffocating the city underneath as Elias walked toward a bus stop. He made his way past the endless stream of buildings that looked more like beige building blocks than houses, avoiding the eyes of people passing by. He debated lifting up his hood but decided that wearing a hoodie in such heat would only be more suspicious. Even tho winter was slowly creeping around the corner, the city was still hot and humid, something Elias still hadn't learned to appreciate.

His plan wasn't finished yet but he had the first steps. He knew of a safehouse, which one of his contacts mentioned a few years ago, in the attic of an old house on the northeast side of the city. All he could do was pray that the shack of a building was still standing. He could still remember the stair that obliterated under his foot the last time he spent a couple of days in the mold-infested apartment.

Elias sat at the back of the bus, watching as the buildings sped past like a cloud of beige. It felt like an orange haze had been cast over the city, engulfing everything within that warm dust that seemed to find its way into Elias' lungs. The streets were filled with cars going in every imaginable direction, with scooters and bikes zigzagging between them haphazardly, somehow still staying alive. There was no way of knowing how the bus would move next. It could speed up, suddenly stop, or move to the side with no reason or explanation. Elias liked it when things moved fast. the speed never gave anyone time to notice him through the blur or moving splashes of color.

As the movement made him invisible, Elias had time to think once more. There was a reason he hadn't made a plan, but he was avoiding it. Something in him was begging him to do it, but he didn't want to. At least every inch of him that was capable of critical thinking didn't want him to do it. Still, it didn't matter that it was beyond reason, he wasn't to go back to the States. That thought had bored its way into the back of his mind and refused to leave, sticking its claws onto his skull as he tried to shake it off. Still, Elias knew that Charlie was still alive and, given his age, he wouldn't be for long.