Rising From the Ashes • COMPLETED ✓

23.) At Peace: Steve Rogers

STEVE ROGERS - CAPTAIN AMERICA

July 12th, 2017, Wakanda

    "Steve! Steve!" Shuri's voice comes echoing down the corridor. I turn away from Bucky's frozen form and face the lab entrance. Instantly, Her Highness bursts through. I'm at my feet in an instant, sensing that's something very off. She's holding Peter's Spider-Man mask and the colorful, rich fabric of her tunic has been slightly ripped in some places.

    "What's wrong? Are we under attack? Where's Peter?"

    She leans against the doorframe, trying to catch her breath. I can see that her brown eyes are glossy with tears. "He's too heavy. I could only lift him so far, so I left him in the middle of the hall."

    I take a few cautious steps to the door and lean out, scanning the passageways. "What on Earth—" The sight of Peter Parker's limp body shocks me to my core. I almost don't know how to react. It's only the rustling of Shuri's clothing that snaps me out of my trance. Running a hand through my hair, I turn towards Shuri and put on a brave face. "Call T'Challa and the medics."

    Shuri nods, tapping on her wrist to project a holographic screen. She takes in a deep breath and offers me a shaky smile. "Will do."

    I examine the princess, knowing she isn't in good shape either. I can tell she's tired and ashamed. I'd know that look of guilt anywhere. I've seen it in the mirror enough times. "Please take a rest, Shuri. Lay down on the couch. I'll set Peter down next to you." She nods again,  seeming dazed. I lead her to the leather sofa and make sure she's comfortable, then go back into the hall.

Parker seems a lot heavier than he normally would—like dead weight. His forehead is stained with blood, his face is scratched up, the Spider-Man suit is torn in multiple places, and his lower lips has been busted open. Seeing the hyperactive and bubbly teen so injured and statue-like makes my heart ache. Carefully, I rest his body on the cushions and use the edge of my sleeve to wipe the red from his face.

    "It was all my fault, Steve," Shuri whispers, so quietly that I nearly miss it. "The Webanator was my idea. Peter used himself as a shield to protect me. I'm the reason why he's like this," Her Highness waves her arms at the battered body of Peter Parker beside her. When she blinks, a few glistening tears leak out of the corners of her eyes and falls onto the couch. "I don't deserve friends, or Peter. Maybe I'm—" A small hiccup intervenes her rant, "—better off alone."

    I walk over to Shuri and place my hands on her shoulders, "Shuri, never say that again. You of all people deserve a friend. You're just about the smartest person in the universe, and you work so hard every single day. You've been working on Bucky Barnes, not because you'll be receiving payment, or because your life is going to become better by doing so—you're healing the most important person in the world to me because I asked you to. Because you're a wonderful person with a good heart. What happened today was an accident. It wasn't your fault. I of all people know how it feels to take the blame for something that I didn't have control of..." An image of Bucky falling off the freight train stabs my soul so violently that I almost fall to my knees. My grip on Shuri tightens as I keep myself upright and as I try to convince her. "So thank you. Thank you for everything. Don't ever question yourself again, or put yourself down."

A small silence passes before Shuri carefully lifts herself up and leans against the pillow. "Thank you, Steve," She brazenly swipes at her cheeks with her fingers and graciously gives me a genuine grin.

"Please don't thank me, princess. Now lie down and take a break. You deserve a rest."

She's already nodding off; her eyes closing, a yawn escaping her mouth. "T'Challa and the doctors will be here shortly," Shuri murmurs as her head plops against the leather.

And so, I sit there. I listen to the steady breathing of Her Highness, I watch Peter Parker's wounded chest rise and fall, I feel the vibration of Bucky's cryostasis tank's humm. I wonder what all three of them are dreaming of. I examine each of their sleeping faces in turn. Shuri and Peter truly look their age for once; sleeping kids with no worries in the world to care for.

Buck's thick, dark eyelashes don't even flutter as he slumbers in a frozen state. His face has no wrinkles of worry or fear, his lips are in a solid line, his broad chest is lowered; giving off the false impression that the man has never carried the weight of the world on those familiar, burdened shoulders.

"Sleep well, everyone," I say, my voice carrying throughout the empty lab. "Rest while you can. Be at peace."

In the silence of the room, I take in a deep breath and feel some of my own troubles and burdens float away as I exhale. Be at peace.

In the midst of all the chaos, Steve manages to finally take a break.

Sorry there's no picture, I just couldn't find what I was looking for and there wasn't enough time to draw an image.

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