After multiple run-ins with death and many shocking self-discoveries in the course of a few months, all America Evans wants to do is hide away in Washington with Steve until she finds out who she really is. But life as an Avenger doesn't allow for a...
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AMERICA'S POV
I sit straight up in bed, sweat dripping down my neck and gasping for breath. Another nightmare, the recurring one where I kill someone on the team. This time, it was Tony. I used a throwing knife. The cast and weapon rotates, but it's always terrifying. My eyes fall on the little ring lying on my nightstand. I wrap the blanket tightly around myself and run to Steve's room. I'm about to knock when our fight comes back to my mind. No. He wouldn't want to see me. Not now. The thought hurts my heart, but I bite my lip and push away my tears. I used to do it all the time, after all. Before I met Steve and the others. For years, I cried by myself. As I wander the halls, I pass a clock that reads 2:53 A.M., and I hesitate in front of a different room, just because I can't stand to be alone anymore. I knock softly.
"Yeah, come in." I crack the door and poke my head into the small bedroom. Natasha glances up from her phone. She looks exhausted in her sweatshirt and leggings. "Oh. Hi."
"Hi." I don't really know what to say. I didn't even plan on coming here. Luckily, she seems to sense that something's wrong and invites me in. I sit next to her on the bed and stare at my feet, unsure where exactly to start.
"What's wrong?" She asks gently.
"Couldn't sleep."
She smiles a bit. "You think anyone's sleeping tonight?" No. Not with the threat of death hanging over their heads. No, not death. Extinction. "Let me guess. Nightmares?" I nod. "We could talk, if you think that would help. You wanna tell me about them?"
"No, not really."
"I heard yelling earlier. You and Steve. Are you okay?"
I shrug, letting out a long sigh. "I honestly don't know. I've never seen him like this before. It's terrible. We just got engaged, too, Natasha. We should be happy."
"He loves you. Don't forget that. Whether you know it or not, it's completely obvious to everyone else around you. He's just angry right now."
"I know he does. But everything he said was true. I was stupid to help with this, I shouldn't have kept it a secret, and my enhanced long-lost siblings only complicate this already-complicated mess."
"Yeah, it all is true. But we can't go back in time. We've got to somehow fix it now," she says. "And we will. Because that's what we do."
"You're right," I acknowledge. I feel better, but I don't want to leave.
"You want to stay here tonight?"
"Really?"
"Sure. You're not the only one who gets nightmares around here, Mer." She smiles a bit and shuts off the lamp, cloaking the room in darkness. I pull the blanket over me gratefully, but I do smile back.
"Thank you."
"Can I ask you something?" I nod, waiting for her to continue. "Why did you come here? I assume I'm the second choice to Rogers, but you still did pick me."
"Because I trust you, Nat." I know how much that statement means to her because we're the same. We both just want people to accept us for the people we've chosen to become. That's why I came here. Because Nat understands that better than anyone else.
"Good night."
"Night." Somehow, I actually fall asleep.
------
The next morning I wake up while Natasha's getting ready. Running back to my room, I change into jeans and a gray hoodie, and pull my hair up into a high ponytail before heading to find the rest of the team and dreading to see Steve. Natasha walks with me. It's nice to have her support.
A group consisting of Steve, Bruce, Tony, Thor, and Clint are all gathered around a computer. Tony hands me a tablet wordlessly. The photo shows Strucker dead in an alleyway, with 'peace' scrawled in blood on the wall behind him. I hand it back immediately.
"This is a smokescreen," Natasha says. "Why send a message when you've just given a speech?"
"Strucker knew something that Ultron wanted us to miss," Steve says, avoiding my gaze. I stiffen as he brushes against me. If the team notices the tension, no one comments.
"Yeah, I bet he... " She taps something and frowns. "Yep. Everything we had on Strucker has been erased."
"Not all of them." And that's how we spend the morning manually searching through boxes and boxes of paper files that possibly contain the information we need.
"These people are all horrible," I say in disgust as I read the information. Murderers, thieves, criminals, black-market dealers.
Tony points to a file in Bruce's hands. "Wait. I know that guy. From back in the day. He operates off the African coast, black market arms. There are conventions, alright?" He says defensively when Steve gives him a look. "You meet people, I didn't sell him anything. He was talking about finding something new, a game-changer, it was all very 'Ahab.'"
"This," Thor says, pointing to the markings on the man's neck.
"Uh, it's a tattoo, I don't think he had it."
"No, those are tattoos. This is a brand."
Bruce types the description into the computer and pulls up information. "Oh, yeah. It's a word in an African dialect meaning thief, in a much less friendly way."
"What dialect?" Steve asks. I'm curious, too.
Bruce squints at the word. "Wakanada...? Wa...Wa...Wakanda."
"Wakanda," I finish, giving him a patronizing grin. I speak a lot of languages. He just shakes his head at me.
"If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods..." Tony starts, looking at Steve.
"I thought your father said he got the last of it?" Steve asks sharply.
"I don't follow," Bruce says. "What comes out of Wakanda?"
My gaze falls on the shield sitting against the wall. "The strongest metal on Earth."
Steve turns to Tony. "Where is this guy now?"
New chapter, a little shorter, but still. I'm really pumped for you guys to read the next few, so leave your thoughts!
