Composure

Take a Breath

You couldn't get a moment to breathe; not one breath alone since this all began to spiral out of control, with the news spreading through the team like wildfire. At first, you had thought that Steve and his big mouth gave it away, but with his shirt gripped in your fist and his wide-eyed fear looking back at you when you confronted him, it became clear who let the cat out of the bag, so to speak.

When Steve brought the quinjet in to land at the compound so that you could rest in the comfort of your own home, the groan from his throat was unmistakable, and you didn't even need to look out of the window to know what awaited you. "(Y/N)-"

"Is it him?"

"I can only see the jet. Do you want me to go stealth and make a break for it?"

"No," you sighed, leaning back against the bulkhead with a thump of your head, "I have to talk to him at some point, right? He obviously knows or why would he be here?"

Steve continued to watch the Wakandan jet with a steady hand on the controls, taking a pass just in front of it on the way to the compound's hangar. What he saw pitched him into a strange inner spiral of relief and contempt; it wasn't T'Challa in the pilot seat at all. He didn't even have the courtesy to come to you, sending one of his guards in his place. "That son of a-"

"What is she doing here?" you whispered to yourself, slamming the door control to open the path for you to greet your visitor. Your steps were hurried and uncertain, with your unwanted guardian fast on your heels to hear what was going on and watching over your shoulder as the pilot stepped down the jet ramp and to face you.

"(Y/N), I'm glad to see that you're well."

"Okoye," you nodded slightly, "what brings you all the way here?" Even as the question passed through your lips, you groaned softly at the lack of believability in your voice. It was obvious that she was there to get information and report back to T'Challa, but when she answered your question, it wasn't at all what you expected.

"I'm here to bring you back to Wakanda. We can send for your remaining belongings later, so take only what you need until then."

"So, he's sending you to do his dirty work? He can't be here and tell me this himself?"

"He had other matters-"

"There should be no other matters more important than this!" you exploded. "If he thinks that he can order me back to Wakanda without the courtesy of asking me first, then he should be here and do it himself! If he thinks that he's going to be any kind of father-"

Okoye didn't take to challenging her King very well, and you could see her hands curl into fists before she carefully moved them to rest against her back. Her eyes darted up and over your shoulder towards Steve, and as much as you wanted to turn back and see in him what she did, you were frankly too nervous to. "(Y/N)," she began, her voice lowered to a firm whisper, "now that you carry his child, the future King or Queen of Wakanda, you are expected...you are commanded to return and reside there until they are born. After that, you may do as you so please, but this child will be Wakandan."

"Whose words are you reciting? Yours or his?"

"They are the words of my country."

Steve had now rested a hand on each of your arms, likely involuntarily to give himself more comfort than what he was giving you. You felt amusingly not unlike a shield in his hold, either keeping him from Okoye, or keeping him safe from her. "There needs to be a better way to do this. I think that T'Challa and (Y/N) should be working through this themselves, as a private matter."