seven.

blackened eyes

THE WITCH SAT in a chair with a rigid back, her arms crossed over her chest, waiting with minimal patience as Everet Ross struggled to clean up the bomb she'd dropped on everyone in the room. She'd agreed to let them complete the psych evaluation, mainly because the psychologist was already there and it was a timid olive branch she could afford to extend. But she'd made it very clear that once the psychologist was done, both she and James were walking out.

Everet pinched the bridge of his nose, a headache forming from the assault of questions flung his way, most by T'Challa who was infuriated at the outcome. Though the prince kept a calm manner about him, it was clear this was the last thing he wanted to happen.

"I understand your frustration, but I cannot tell you why she's allowed to take him. All I can tell you is that she's very important and I'd be breaking laws I can't afford to break if she doesn't walk out of here with Barnes."

"Then who can tell me these things?" T'Challa felt his hands curl into fists and he took a deep breath, knowing the best thing he could do was to remain logical during this time.

"I can," Maev finally spoke, moving her eyes from Steve Rogers sitting in a separate room with a man she vaguely recognized as Tony Stark, "once you're crowned king." She met T'Challa's gaze with a steady one of her own, her temper finally reigned in. "I know this is less than ideal, but I can promise you it will make sense once that crown touches your head."

"Your words do little to comfort me that justice will be served to my father's murderer," T'Challa said, a frown on his lips.

"James didn't kill your father." Came the calm reply, a stark contrast to the rage she'd displayed earlier. 

"Then who did?" His voice was equally as calm, but it hid an anger that had only continued to grow. This day had been particularly trying for many, many reasons, and the witch only served to aggravate him more.

She opened her mouth to reply but stopped, rising from her seat and nearing the screen that flickered to life. It showed James restrained in a glass box, his face eerily blank. Worry flashed over her face, too quick for most to notice, and she gently reached for that tether between them, tugging on it lightly to send a wave of reassurance. 

The psychologist sat down and Maev frowned slightly, tilting her head as she watched the exchange. Something felt... off. As a witch she'd grown accustomed to the gut-wrenching feelings that would hit her without warning, serving to tell her to pay attention, to be wary. She looked around the room, frowning as she searched for the source of her unease.

"What's wrong, Maev?" Everet Ross asked her, knowing better than anyone else the peculiar behaviors of the witch.

"Something's not right." She murmured, her eyebrows furrowed.

The agent raised an eyebrow at her vague response, the last thing Maev noticed before the building was plunged into darkness. Instantly the building came alive, agents swarming around as they rushed to figure out what had happened, Everet's voice rising above the chaos to shout commands. 

Maev moved, to do what she had no idea, only to double over as a sharp pain lanced through her whole body. She lurched forward, her hand catching on the edge of a table, a chocked gasp catching the attention of the man standing next to her. Her legs gave out and she crashed to the floor, her body seizing as white-hot pinpricks of pain encased her. She gasped for air, the rushing of everyone around her fading as she clawed at her arm, feeling as if her brain was turning to ash. 

She couldn't breathe, she couldn't think, what was going on, what was going on, where was she, where was she, who was she... who was she?

Terror like no other enveloped the witch as her mind went completely blank. 

She knew she was afraid, but she didn't know why. 

She knew she was in a room, but she didn't know where. 

She knew she was a witch, but she didn't know her own name.

She felt like she was underwater and could vaguely feeling someone shaking her shoulders, but she was drowning in an abyss of darkness, everything she was and everything she knew ripped out of her grasp without warning. She wanted to speak, to ask a question, to move, to do anything but lay still. She was sinking further down and she thrashed in that darkness, reaching out to grasp at anything and everything. Her memories rushed up to meet her, only to slip through her fingers like sand, lost to the darkness. 

A copper tang filled her mouth and without warning the darkness snapped and she was being shot through that nothingness like a meteor hurtling towards the earth and everything was rushing back and she was being overwhelmed at the onslaught of memories of blood and magic and rituals and running and running and running until—

"Trust me, little one, this is the only way."

With a gasp Maev shot up, startling Everet who'd just been ordering for a stretcher, her fingers pressed into the scalp of her head. Her nails dug into her skin and the pain, faint but real, pierced through the haze that had her in its grasp. She took deep shuddering breaths, her magic pressing against her skin in revolt from the attack on her mind, taking a moment to collect herself. 

"Maev?" Everet's voice is hesitant, and for good reason. Maev was generally composed and rarely showcased her magic around figures of authority in the human world, so for him to see a magic based attack with no clear trigger in sight must've been a shock. She knew that he thought she was hot-tempered and strong-willed and selfish and all in all a very powerful figure, and while a few of those things were true, seeing a witch fall was bound to make any human nervous. 

"I'm fine. Just... give me a second." Maev frowned after she spoke, reaching up to touch her mouth. She drew her hand away and observed the blood on her fingertips, her eyebrows furrowed slightly. She hadn't bit her tongue, so the blood must've been from whatever had happened to James. 

James!

She struggled to her feet, waving off an agent who offered a hand. "Something happened to James, where is he? I need to—" she swayed on her feet and pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation, closing her eyes until the dizziness passed. She took another deep breath, "I need to get to James."

Everet jerked his head and the remaining agents in the room quickly left. After what he'd just witnessed— Maev laying on the ground, mouth contorted in a scream, lights flickering overhead, eyes wholly black, blood leaking from her mouth —he didn't want anyone else to around just in case it happened again... or if she got worse. He then braced himself for the onslaught of questions he knew would fling out of her mouth, "Barnes is gone. He broke out of his containment unit, left a throng of unconscious agents in his path, and disappeared into thin air. Rogers and Wilson are also missing."

But, instead of asking several questions, Maev just wiped the blood with her sleeve before reaching down to grab her bag she'd discarded on the ground when she'd first entered. She slung it over her shoulder before looking at him, the blackness in her eyes receding and giving way to white. "Did anyone get critically injured?"

Everet hesitated for a variety of reasons before finally speaking, "Most have very minor concussions or wounds but Agent Barrow can no longer walk. The paramedics think his spine has been fractured and a helicopter is on the way."

"Take me to him."

T'Challa Udaku stood eerily still as he watched the paramedics move the injured agents into an empty room at the behest of Everet Ross, only for them to be kicked out by the woman named Maev. She closed the door behind her, shutting each of the blinds, and didn't come out for several minutes. 

Okoye, who'd been standing next to him, cleared her throat once, twice, and then a third time each time more aggressive than the last. 

With a sigh he turned his attention to her, "Yes, Okoye?"

"What, exactly, are we waiting for?"

He inclined his head towards the closed door, "For her."

"Why?" Her question was short and to the point, the general never one to waste words. 

"Because I am dissatisfied with her answers and I'd like to get better ones." What he didn't add on was how the only reason he was staying and prolonging the chase after the Winter Soldier was because of what he'd seen before Everet Ross ordered everyone out, except for the highest ranking agents. The soon to be king couldn't get the image out of his head, of how she'd fallen and the way her eyes, once simply a dark hazel that could be mistaken for black, were completely and utterly devoured by a darkness that had pierced through his soul. 

The door opened and he snapped to attention, watching Maev step out. She looked tired, the kind of tired that came from having too much to do with not enough time. The kind of tired that came from an endless weight that rested on one's shoulders. 

It was a particular kind of tired T'Challa was used to feeling.

He tilted his head, observing her as she approached Everet Ross, the two speaking in hushed tones. Then, to his surprise, the shook hands, a sincere 'thank you' coming from Everet. Maev just nodded her head, looking incredibly solemn, before turning on her heel and walking the opposite direction of T'Challa. 

He started following her down the hallway, peering into the door that was slightly ajar, only to come to a stop. He stared at the man, the very man he'd found himself laying in such a way he knew something important had been broken, who was now sitting up and swinging his legs of the table. 

Okoye nudged him with her foot and he started walking again, quickening his pace to catch up to Maev. They followed her down several flights of stairs into the parking garage, where she strode to the furthest corner, light glancing off a motorcycle that had his pulse quickening. 

Where the hell had an outsider gotten one of his country's motorcycles?

Maev swung her leg over the motorcycle and sat down grabbing a helmet, but she made no move to put it on, instead resting it on her lap. "Are you ready to ask me your questions, or are you going to continue following me?"

T'Challa and Okoye came to a halt and the prince could feel the anger radiating off of the general. Outsiders never received technology from Wakanda which meant that the woman must've stolen it somehow. 

"Before you ask," she said quietly, running a finger over the thin veins of vibranium just barely visible in the helmet, "no I didn't steal this."

"Then how did you get it?" T'Challa asked sharply.

"It was a gift," she looked up at him, holding his gaze, "from your father. I aided him a few years ago and, knowing that I don't accept payment, he gifted me this instead." 

"I don't believe you."

She shrugged, "You don't have to. But I will tell you this, your father was a good king. He made mistakes, as all humans do, but he had a kinder heart than many of the kings I've dealt with. He was exceptionally proud of his country, and of you. So know this, if James had killed your father, I wouldn't have stopped you from getting the justice you deserve."

He paused, mulling over her words. After a moment of silence, he asked, "You know where to find Barnes."

"Yes."

"And you're not going to tell me where he is."

"That's correct."

"And you are convinced he isn't the killer despite facial recognition deeming it's him," after she nodded T'Challa continued, "so how are you able to tell me you wish for my father's killer to be captured when you're hiding the best suspect I have?"

Maev pulled the helmet over her head, the visor flipped up and leaned forward as the motorcycle hummed to life. "I am going to find James, I am going to get him to a safe place, and when I am done sorting this out, I will find the man responsible for your father's death. I will bring him to Wakanda myself so you may have your justice, unless you've already found him." 

The kickstand slid into place and she put one foot up, looking back over her shoulder at him, "I will not deprive you of your justice, but I will deprive you of killing an innocent man." 

Maev didn't wait for his answer as she snapped the visor down, driving out of the parking garage, leaving T'Challa and Okoye behind.

She felt bad for the prince, she truly did. It was cruel to lose a parent, even crueler to have them killed before your very eyes by a ghost of a man, and it was a pain she knew all too well. But as she hurtled down the road, she knew that the ripple of power released earlier wasn't going to unnoticed by a particular group of witches that she'd been evading for a long time. So while she wished to ease T'Challa's conscious, she had much bigger things to worry about.

Like finding James and protecting him from the human world... and hers.

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