VENI, VIDI, VICI • INFINITY WAR/ENDGAME

13

REASON FOR THE AGONY

Curio was tired of waiting. T'Challa had wanted Curio to stay in Wakanda, him having more information on Thanos than anyone else. As much as Curio hated being tethered to one place, it made him feel useful - someone needed him for something. In all the time he'd been with Libertas, he'd felt like a spare part, something that could be easily discarded and easily forgotten. Yet as much as he enjoyed the feeling, he missed his friends. Every spare moment was spent wondering if they were okay, and each night he'd bolt upright in bed. 

He hated it; he didn't want to leave. 

Wakanda was safe, it would protect him. He wouldn't be a victim like his parents, and he wouldn't be nothing but a memory like Strange. He would be Curio, or at least who he thought was Curio. Honestly, he'd long ago forgotten his real name, his life adapting to the Roman persona until he could no longer see the difference between the two. 

Whoever he used to be wouldn't survive this new world. 

Curio heaved a large breath, rubbing the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. The sun was beating down on his back, making it feel as if it was being lit on fire. The gentle breeze did nothing to soothe this fire, only igniting it more. He regretted coming outside and agreeing to this stupid exercise. 

"Get up!" Okoye commanded, spinning the staff in her hand. "You said you wanted a distraction, here it is." 

"Getting my ass whopped isn't that much of a distraction," Curio muttered, clambering weakly to his feet. He reluctantly plucked up his own staff off of the ground, clutching it tightly in his hands. "Would it surprise you if I told you I spend the majority of sparring on the floor?" 

Fluid as a snake, she snapped forward, her spear flying towards Curio. He only had a split second to react, pushing the spear between them. He cringed at the clang it made, stumbling back. Okoye launched into another attack, and before Curio could blink his feet had been swept out from under him. 

She smirked, leaning on the weapon. "If this is the best warrior they can send, then earth is screwed." 

Curio pulled a face at the woman, staggering to his feet. Just like his footing, his breathing was uneasy, wheezing out of his lungs. His shirt was drenched in sweat, clinging close to his body. Without thinking twice about it, he peeled the shirt off, tossing it carelessly aside. 

"It was screwed before I even got here." He rearranged his body so he was in the fighting stance, staring the determined woman straight in the eye. She mirrored his move. 

Before he could even think his plan through thoroughly, he jabbed the spear forward. Okoye easily dodged the move, swinging her own spear towards him. Curio danced back a step, narrowly missing the blade's edge. He raised a singular brow at her - she didn't respond. He shook this off, jabbing the weapon towards her again. It carried on like this for another minute, a dance of him hopelessly poking at and her almost brushing off the attacks. Curio was heavily panting and she hadn't even broken a sweat. 

Like always, he ended up collapsed on the grass. Curio groaned, his back screaming at him. The grass tickled his bare skin, and as desperate as he was to move out of it's teasing he had next to no energy. He wasn't sure how much longer he could carry on sparring with the warrior, and he was almost certain that her training would be the death of him. 

"I think you proved your point." Curio gasped out, pushing himself up onto his elbows, leaning back. He squinted up at the woman. "I'm more of a smooth talker." 

Okoye sniggered. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." 

Curio opened his mouth to say something, then closed it quickly. She was right, even his power of persuasion had limits, and made it mostly useless. He had no idea why Strange thought it was a good idea to send him on this suicide mission, he wasn't hero material. 

"Another round?" Curio suggested. He needed to get everything off of his mind, and if he passed out in the process then it was just a bonus. Okoye shrugged, moving back into her battle stance. 

I'm fucking crazy, Curio thought to himself as he took in her lean muscles and expert way she held the weapon as if it was an extension of her hand. 

Pushing these thoughts out of his mind, he clambered to his feet. He clenched the staff as tightly as he could in his hand, hoping his grip was right and he didn't look like a complete dick. Closing his eyes for a brief second, he anchored back all of the bad thoughts, all the worries and fears, focusing on one thing: try not to fall to the ground straight away. 

He opened his eyes. 

Not wasting a second, he thrust the staff towards Okoye. Her movements this time weren't as fluid, and she nearly tripped over her feet. Complete surprise crossed her face, and the next thing he knew she had leapt forward and jabbed him. He didn't manage to move out of the way in time, the blade slicing at the bare skin at his abdomen. He grit his teeth, uncaring about the blood pumping from the wound or the sweat already making the wound feel as though it had been poured in acid. He made another attempt to take her off guard; now she was prepared for everything. Her spear clashed with his, and in one fell swoop she had managed to spin it out of his grip. As she did so, the tip of her spear slid over the skin of his left arm. 

He collapsed to the ground. 

Curio bit down the urge to swear, the urge to scream at the woman for being so inconsiderate. After all, he'd been the one to approach her about a distraction, it wasn't her fault. Still, the blood pouring out his scarred arm hurt like a fucking bitch. It reignited the fire that engulfed his arm, only now shots of agony paused the constant torture. 

Okoye's eyes widened, her seeing the consequences. She quickly commanded someone to get help, dropping by his side. "I am so deeply sorry." 

Through gritted teeth, Curio spoke. "It's good, it always hurts. At least now I know there's a reason for it." A dark laugh passed his lips. Okoye only stared at him remorsefully. "Don't worry. Muscle shirts were already ruined for me."

His attempt at humour did nothing to lift the gloomy expression off of her face. 

-

hey guys! i hope you all enjoyed this little filler chapter! i am so excited because for three days straight i wrote three chapters so i have some spares if i don't manage to write anything for a short bit.

and now i'm going to be extra annoying and ask your opinion - half of my hair is bleached blonde, with at the top some faded purple dye (it was this really awesome purple to bright purple ombre but its all faded and i don't want to re do it) and i want to re dye it. i was thinking either pastel pink or just brunette - i was wondering if any of you had any different ideas? 

anyway, i hope you're all doing well! see you soon!

-thirdwheelchurchill