Say My Name

Say My Name - Part 3

You stood silently, head tilted towards the ceiling to muffle your heavy breathing. You had wedged yourself behind a hidden panel in your apartment wall. You'd had no time to escape or plan. They were coming for you.

You waited, straining to hear above the pounding of your heart.

You'd awoken in the early hours to your kimoyo beads burning in to your wrist. You'd answered the urgent call from your brother, expecting nothing more than a status update on his most recent War Dog assignment.

"Y/N!" he shouted, formalities forgotten. "Y/N, get out! We've been compromised."

You blinked rapidly at the projection, trying to shake the sleep from your eyes.

"Brother, what do you-"

"They're coming for you! Run!"

His image cut out and you shot straight out of your bed. You had expected this, but not so soon. You were reaching for your bug out bag under your bed when you heard the faint, but all too familiar whir of a Wakandan ship's engine.

You abandoned your exit plan, electing instead to hide. But first, you ripped off your kimoyo beads and shoved them in your freezer alongside a quickly scribbled note. You pulled a disguised panel off of the wall and slid behind it, closing it gingerly.

It locked back in place with a small thud.

You waited.

But not for long.

In mere moments, the brightly clad Dora Milaje had entered your apartment, turned it over, and extracted you from your hole in the wall.

You did not fight. You knew it would be fruitless. Instead, as they read you your charges as a rogue War Dog, you remained quiet. Silence was your final weapon. Silence just might save your life.

–

It had been well over two and a half years since you recruited Erik to join the resistance. Between his military tours in special operations and his dealings with the War Dogs, the two of you had seen little of one another. But that didn't mean that when you were together things weren't hot and heavy. You'd fallen in to a comfortable routine of sorts. First you'd fuck each other and then you'd fuck the system. Your love affair had global consequences, but you assured yourselves that it was for the greater good.

Erik had a key to your apartment. Sometimes he'd crash there in between missions, and he didn't necessarily expect you to be home. But this time, when he pushed open the unlocked door, he knew something was wrong.

Your mattress had been flipped and your drawers rifled through. Your desk had been stripped of all of your Wakandan technology and the hidden panel in your wall was cracked.

Erik froze in the doorway, pushing back the haunting memories racing to the forefront of his mind. He did not want to enter. He did not want to find you dead on the floor just like he had found his father.

His breath hitched and his throat tightened as he cautiously stepped over the threshold.

Someone had taken you. Everything you would have brought with you had you left voluntarily was still in the apartment. Anger and desperation began to build up inside of him as he searched for any clues as to where you might be... if you were still alive. He found nothing.

"Fuck!" Erik yelled, his fist colliding with the wall. The pain of the impact was amplified by the familiar sense of loss, and Erik continued to beat in to the wall. He should have fucking known. The War Dogs had been radio silent since he returned from his last assignment with the US government in Beirut. Something had obviously been wrong.