REUNITED ~ STEVE ROGERS [4]

Chapter One

It's a weird feeling, wondering if you are dead, or alive.

I was floating, I think. Everything hurt but everything didn't, all at the same time. I knew I wasn't in heaven, but it didn't seem hot enough for hell, so maybe I was stuck in between, like a ghost, a phantom.

My right arm was stiff and every time I tried to move it all I got was a raging pain. All over my body, it felt like pins were sticking into me.

Then they were gone, and I heard his voice.

"I love you" it said. Who had said those words? It was familiar, and close. The answer was on the tip of my tongue.

I was still floating, in an inky black that seemed to stick to me like tar. I couldn't move, not really, but I heard voices in the distance, more now. They called my name.

What was my name? Keight. No, that was my fake name. Khethiwe Nkosazana Udaku was my real name. The voices said both. Were they different people? It was hard to tell.

What happened to me? I couldn't remember. So many things. Bad things. I was hurt by, who? My mind felt cluttered, and yet so empty at the same time. There was a man. Yes. His ocean blue eyes popped into my head. So beautiful. The rest of his face appeared. The full curve of his lower lip. The angles of his jaw, the broadness of his shoulders. He was so familiar, so close, so...lovely.

Steve. Yes, that was his name. and I loved him. And he loved me. It was a rush of memory, flashes and cuts like scenes in a movie in my own head.

I had left some people behind, and then I had, saved them? Saved Steve. And Bucky. Was Bucky alive? I hoped so. I liked him. He made Steve happy.

Antiseptic hit my nose, a trigger to distant memories, and the inky black swallowed me whole, and I lost sight of him, oblivion taking over.

***

When I woke up, the first thing I noticed was the thirst. It consumed me, a deep dry ache for moisture. Then it was the pain, a dull thud all over. Then, when I opened my eyes, it was the two men in chairs at the sides of my bed, one awake, and the other asleep, his jaw lined with stubble, dark circles around his eyes. The other, dark-skinned, his face in his hands, shoulders slumped. My right arm was in a cast, from wrist to shoulder, and a bracelet of black beads lined my left wrist. Their weight, their smoothness was a comfort, a familiarity. I smiled, a crooked, painful gesture.

"I never thought I'd see the day when the mighty T'Challa was crying at my bedside," I croaked. His head snapped up, but his dark eyes were clear.

"I was not crying. I was shaking my head at your stupidity," he replied quietly, failing to hide the look of joy on his face. I chuckled lightly, then screwed up my face at the pain in my chest.

"I'm guessing, its bad?" I said at his worried expression. He nodded slowly.

"I, don't want to alarm you, but it is bad," he replied. I sighed, my eyes drifting to the large blonde man who was somehow squished into the small metal chair on the other side of me. His head was low, resting on his chest, his body rising and falling with every breath. T'Challa noticed me smiling.

"He's been in here the whole time. He wouldn't leave your side," he said.

"He's stubborn."

"He loves you," T'Challa said softly, resting a hand on mine. I closed my eyes, my body craving touch.

"Is Bucky...?"

"Safe. And your other friends were returned to their homes. No one can harm you here," he assured me, keeping his voice low as Steve stirred in his chair.