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
Steve, Bucky and I stagger out into the snow, all supporting each other. I'm desperately exhausted and my head won't stop spinning. I can't even feel my hand. Whether that's good or bad, I'm not sure, but at least it's not painful.
Icy winds cut against my cheek, making me miss Malibu (or even New York) more than ever. If I had known we were going to Siberia, I would have worn a hat.
Steve turns sharply, and I stumble sideways until he grabs me. The Black Panther approaches, mask down. I would run, but I'm too exhausted to care at this point. If he arrests me, then I can sleep in a warm jail.
"I'm sorry." These are the first words T'Challa says, and they remind me that surprises are definitely still out there. He addresses Bucky, and then the rest of us. "I know now that it wasn't you who killed my father. I acted on rage, which is shameful, but I would like to make amends with you all. Allow me to offer you a place to recover in my country. You will be safe there from anyone who seeks you."
The three of us quickly agree to the offer, desperate to be safe and out of the cold, and soon enough we're on a jet to Wakanda. I find a place to sit next to Steve while Bucky drifts off a few seats down. He sets a paper down when I come over.
"Are you okay?" Steve asks, his blue eyes concerned. I shake my head, too preoccupied with everything that's just happened to be fine.
"No. Not at all. Are you?"
He sighs. "No. How's your head?"
"It still aches. And I'm tired, which probably makes it way worse."
"What happened to your hand?" He asks, pointing to the scrap of jacket I still have tightly wrapped around it.
"Tony blasted it partway through the fight. There were other things to focus on. I haven't even looked at it, because it doesn't really hurt anymore."
"It doesn't?" A crease of confusion appears between his eyebrows.
"No, it doesn't," I say again, starting to worry. "I mean, maybe a little. Maybe. Is that bad?"
"No. It's not bad."
"Steve, you're such a bad liar." I smile at him a bit. He's so innocent. "It's bad, right?"
He shrugs his broad shoulders. "Usually that means you burned your nerve cells pretty severely. It used to happen to the boys during the war. That's not an easy fix."
"We're going to Wakanda. If they can't do something, I'll just chop the hand off and be done with it altogether. Maybe I'll even get a metal one." I raise my voice. "Might be ugly, though!"
"I heard that," mumbles Bucky, eyes still closed. I wonder how long he's been pretending.
"Can I see?" Steve asks gently. I nod and close my eyes. I feel his careful hands unwrap the jacket and hear the sharp intake of breath. His touch stings. Good. Feeling's back.
"It's that bad, isn't it?"
"Yeah," he admits. "Yeah, Mer, I think it is."
I open my eyes and my stomach lurches. Part of my skin is blackened, literally charred from the blast. Red blisters spread across my hand, too, but I'm not concerned about those.
"It is that bad," I say softly, covering it up again so I don't throw up. "Wow."
"It'll be okay, doll," Steve murmurs into my hairline. He tilts my chin up and gives me a lingering kiss. "You know, if all of this hadn't happened, we'd be getting back from our honeymoon today."
"Well, our lives aren't exactly normal, Steve." I kiss him again. "We don't play by the rules."
"I get that you're married and it's great, but I'm righthere."
"Go back to sleep, Barnes," I tease before pressing my lips to Steve's once again. Eventually, I lay my head on his shoulder and give into the ever-growing exhaustion.
------
I wake up in a room I've never been in before. My anxiety spikes when I realize I'm in some sort of medical place, but I force myself to take deep breaths and calm down. No one is going to hurt you.
"You're awake!" A girl with a pleasant Wakandan accent and space buns says from her spot in the corner.
"You sound surprised. How long was I asleep?"
"About seventeen hours," she answers. "You were really out of it. You fell asleep on the plane and it was just easier to treat you unconscious."
I smile a bit and shake my head. "You know what? I needed that."
"You bet you did. How's your head? I'm Shuri, by the way."
"America. And it's fine. Whatever you guys did must have worked some miracles."
Shuri smiles. "I'll go get your friends. Your husband won't stop freaking out about you."
She leaves me to ponder who else she's talking about, but she's not gone long. Steve, Bucky, Anna, and Sam all filter into the room with similar expressions of relief and concern.
"Hi, guys!" I say, my spirits lifting at the sight of them. I give them all hugs and Steve gets a kiss before I focus on Sam and Anna. "It's really great to see you, but how are you here?"
"Steve busted us all out from the Raft last night," he replies. I raise my eyebrows at Steve.
"I thought you would have wanted that."
"More like I would have wanted to come," I joke. "How're you doing, Buck?"
"Okay. Much better now," he says, wrapping his metal arm around Anna, who smiles. "Wilson, you are looking very single right now."
"Ooh, burn!" I say, holding up my hand. Bucky tries to high five me, but I've already withdrawn my hand, staring at it like I've never seen it before.
