Two days later...

Chapter Fifteen
Analiese

"When will I be able to go home?" Stevie asks, his voice desperate.

After the battle ended we moved some of the patients back to Wakanda, the ones who needed Wakandan medicine and enhancements to be healed. Many patients are still being transferred here, the hospital is getting fuller by the hour. Stevie, Alex, and Jade were amongst those moved. Stevie is in the best shape of the three, his leg healing properly now that we're back here with vibranium tools. Shuri is nearly done crafting his replacement leg, she said she'll need a day or two to make the final adjustments. We both had a brainstorming session about the replacement leg and his shifting and came up with a solution: the leg will be crafted to snap on and off for when he needs to shift. Once it's off, he'll attach the leg to his back with a latch, and it will be imbued with Pym particles so it will shrink and grow along with him, just like the gun attached to his suit.

Stevie will still have to learn how to operate as an animal with one leg, but as I told him, not every animal will be difficult. Any aquatic animal or bird will not be impacted by his lack of a leg. This didn't make him feel any better.

"After Shuri gets done with your replacement leg and we test it on you, and it works, then you can go home."

Stevie groans, sinking down in his hospital bed. Liam, who has not left his bed side for two days, gives him a sympathetic, drowsy, smile. Bucky does too, who has been here just as long.

I reach out and place my hand on Stevie's shoulder. "It will be alright, Stevie. It will be a hard transition, but you have your family to help you through it."

He smiles up at me, but it's half-hearted. I glance at the clock on the walls and realize it's way past time for me to check on how Alex is doing. I squeeze Stevie's shoulder and head towards the door. Just as I cross the doorway and make it into the hallway, Bucky calls my name, appearing behind me a moment later.

I turn and wait for him to speak, and after a bit of hesitation, he does: "I wanted to thank you for what you did for my son and for my brother in law. You saved their lives," He looks really uncomfortable right now, but he's being sincere. "I'll never forget what you did for them. Thank you, Analiese, truly."

I'm a bit stunned right now, and a little uncomfortable myself. I'm not used to anything but snarky comments and hateful glares from him. And I'm used to returning them. But there's nothing snarky or hateful for me to say right now. And as weird as I feel about doing it, I extend my hand out towards him. He glances from my face to my hand a couple times before wrapping his metal hand around mine, squeezing it gently.

"There's no need to thank me. I'm just glad they're both okay. That you're all okay."

Bucky opens his mouth to say something else but closes it quickly. He then reconsiders and opens it again, looking even more awkward as he says: "My wife always believes in the best in people. And every time she sees that good, and I doubt that it's there, I'm proven wrong. She was right about you, I see that now. Actually, I've seen it for a while. I've hated you for so long because of what you did to Soroya all those years ago, but you've clearly changed. I...I forgive you for what happened back then. I promise not to hold it against you anymore."

Holy shit. This is not what I expected him to say, not now, not ever. I gawk at him for a moment or two before I speak, still a bit stunned: "I don't deserve your forgiveness. I tortured her, nearly killed her. You have every right to hold that against me."

"If being with Soroya has shown me anything is that people can change. I recognize the look of guilt when I see it, I had it for years. I know you regret what you did, I know you torture yourself over it. We can't change the past, Analiese, all we can do is look to the future and hope we can be better. You did a lot in your past, but you're making up for it now, and that's what matters."

"Then I forgive you for what you did to Julian," I mumble, finding it physically difficult to get these words out. "I know it wasn't your fault. It was just easier to blame you and hate you for it. I promise to not hold that against you anymore either."

A ghost of a smile crosses his lips, his head nodding slowly. "You and I have been at each other's throats for so long...it feels weird not hating you."

It does feel weird. "I'm sure the hate will come back soon. I may not be holding a grudge against you anymore, but you're still a stubborn, annoying, pain in the ass. I can't see us ever being friends."

Bucky scoffs. "Certainly not. I couldn't be friends with someone as arrogant, snarky, and annoying as you."

"How about we settle for moderately disliking each other?"

"I can accept that."

"I feel like the universe would implode if we got any closer than that."

"Couldn't agree more."

I nod to him and begin to step away, but before I do, I say over my shoulder: "Soroya can never know about this."

Bucky nods firmly. "We will take this to the grave."

"Agreed."

-

The mesh skin graft I put on Alex's face is working very well. I wish we had had all the Wakandan tech at our disposal in that hospital, he would have healed quicker and more efficiently if that had been the case. But we couldn't bring everything to the battle, a lot of the heavier equipment had to stay behind, equipment Alex could have really used. It's still not as bad as it could have been. Right now his skin looks scaley, but that will fade as time goes on. He'll definitely have permanent scaring though. His vision in his left eye is damaged, he can now only see shapes and colors in that eye. His right eye is perfectly fine however. Shuri is already working on a solution to his missing left ear, but she hasn't decided whether a mechanical ear or an advanced hearing aid is best for the situation. She offered to make Alex a replacement left eye, but that would require surgery to remove the existing eye and Alex wasn't up for that. I don't blame him. After all he's been through these past few days I wouldn't want anymore surgery either.

Alex will have to stay in the hospital a little longer, which he's pretty annoyed about. He wants to go home as much as Stevie does. Khari and Jo have been by his side for these past couple days. I don't think either of them have gotten much sleep. No one has. I haven't slept since the night before the battle.

I tell Alex all the progress he's making, but this news doesn't make him feel any better. His expression is made of stone, has been since he woke up after his last surgery two days ago. That's pretty normal. As a shapeshifter he's learned to rely heavily on his sight and hearing, and both are now damaged. Just like Stevie, Alex will have to adjust and train himself to shift with his new disabilities. Alex will also have to deal with the long term healing process of his injuries, and not just the physical aspect of taking care of his wounds. A traumatic event caused the burn, and he'll have to see the scars from that even every time he looks in a mirror. He nearly died. That takes a toll on someone.

Khari leaves Alex's side for a moment to approach me, his voice wavering and quiet as I says: "I can't thank you enough for all you've done for him.

It's not as weird hearing Khari thank me as it was Bucky thanking me. Khari has actually been very kind and welcoming to me past few months, which wasn't very shocking to me. Khari and Soroya are a lot alike, always have been.

I nod once. "No need to thank me."

"Yes, there is. Without you my husband and my nephew would be dead. I'm truly indebted to you."

Before I can reply, Jo comes over and wraps her arms around my waist, giving me a rub cracking hug. I hug her back, once again nodding to Khari. "I'm just glad he's on the mend."

I hear footsteps approaching the room and Livy appears moments later. She's looking at a holopad when she crosses the doorway and looks startled when she glances up, locking eyes with me. "I didn't realize you were checking on him. Did everything go alright with Stevie?"

"Yes, he's fine. He's complaining about having to stay here longer, but he's fine."

"I just left Aunt Jade," she says, glancing back down at the pad. "She's still sleeping, but she's stable. She should wake up within the next day or so."

Khari walks over to his niece and wraps an arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead. "I'm so proud of you, darling."

Alex, who hasn't said anything really in the last couple days, says hoarsely: "You kicked ass, Dr. Barnes."

Livy walks away from one uncle and towards the other, leaning down to kiss his unburnt cheek. She then leans her head against the right side of his forehead, whispering: "I'm so glad you're okay, Uncle Alex."

He smirks, but it's half-hearted. "Me too."

"Livy," I say, gesturing towards the door. "I'll take things over from here. Why don't you end your shift early. Go home, get some sleep. One of us should."

Livy gives me an appreciative smile, but that smile suddenly grows more wary. "I'll take you up on the offer to end my shift, but I don't think I'm gonna go home. There's someone I need to go see."

I know who she means. I give her a nod. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Livy kisses Alex and Khari's cheeks, winks at Jo, and then heads for the door, stopping only to say to me: "Thanks, Ana."

Seems to be a common phrase today. "Anytime."

-

Zy'aire

The world leaders have been talking about so much it's hard to keep up. They've jumped from one topic to the other. First they argued about the deal Naomi made with the Skrulls, not wanting an alien race to live on Earth. Naomi, mourning and exhausted, fought tooth and nail to get them to see reason. Eventually they did, but only after declaring they would force the Skrulls to abide by strict rules and regulations. Naomi fought this as well, but she unfortunately didn't win that argument. Aunt Soroya and Uncle Sam tried to chime in, but none of the world leaders are willing to listen to them right now. I think they're afraid of them after they both wielded Stormbreaker. I think they see them as bigger threats now, two humans who have the power of Norse gods.

Aunt Soroya and Sam forced them to listen though when they brought up the argument once again of helping other planets with their issues and making extraterrestrial connections. The other leaders finally agreed, but only because they realize we need allies in case another alien invasion like this happens again. The Avengers now have permission to help out on other planets. They said a Earthen representative needs to be chosen to make those extraterrestrial connections, but they agreed to table it for now and vote in the next meeting. They are now discussing the clean up and restoration for D.C., London, and Beijing. Relief programs need to be started, homes need to be repaired, citizens relocated to temporary homes, refugees need to be moved out of Wakanda, a lot of people still need medical attention. The Skrulls also need homes, so programs and housing accommodations need to be made for them as well while new homes are built.

It's overwhelming how much stuff needs to be taken care of. And on top of helping with all of that, I have to plan Baba's funeral. As king it's my duty to conduct the ceremony, I have to give a speech and lay him to rest in the royal family crypt. Aunt Okoye will also get a funeral, as will the Avengers who fell, and all those who perished in the battle. So much death. So much destruction. So much pain. So much so fast I can hardly process it all, I can hardly breathe. It's getting harder and harder to concentrate on what everyone is saying, it's getting harder to focus. I feel like my head is about to explode. Like I'm going to explode.

I mumble an excuse, or maybe I don't. I am not really aware of any of them or even myself as I turn off my hologram projector, welcoming the silence of the throne room. I usually have my mother and Uncle Everett here during my meetings, but they're both helping move people from the battlefield to the hospital and to Aunt Shuri's lab. I'm not the only one swamped with the dozens of things that need to be done, everyone is. Everyone is tired, everyone is overwhelmed, everyone is mourning. Everyone is feeling exactly what I'm feeling and yet they can carry on doing tasks and fulfilling their responsibilities. Why can't I? Why am I so weak? Why can't I bury my feelings and do what needs to be done like the others can?

Why aren't I the king I should be?

My lungs feel like they're filled with water, my body feels so heavy and tired, and my eyes feel dry and scratchy. I haven't slept. I haven't showered. I reek of sweat and blood. I'm a mess. A complete and utter mess. I'm a mess who wears a crown and commands an entire country. How pathetic is that? How pathetic am I? Yeah, this is what I king looks like, what a king acts like.

I pull off my Kimoyo Beads and tap on them a couple times, pulling up my music library. When I listen to music I like to use my speakers, but they're all the way upstairs and I don't feel like getting them. So I just click on My Chemical Romance and crank the volume up, which is pretty loud given that it's coming from beads.

Welcome to the Black Parade plays, the song I always listen to when I'm upset or angry or confused. It is only now, on this listen, that I realize how much these lyrics resonate with me and my situation. This song is about a father and son, and the father tells the son that he needs to be a savior, a hero. He tells the son that he needs to defeat his own demons and the evil in the world. Then he tells his son that one day he's going to die and leave him all alone, but the son assures his father that he'll carry on without him and be everything his father wanted him to be.

"I'm just a man, I'm not a hero
Just a boy, who had to sing this song
I'm just a man, I'm not a hero, I don't care
We'll carry on, we'll carry on
And though you're dead and gone, believe me
Your memory will carry on..."

I listen to the lyrics and shake my head. I'm not a hero. I'm just a man. I'm just a boy. I'm not a king. I'll never be a king. Baba was a king. Baba was everything. He was my everything. And now he's gone. He's gone.

I flinch when I hear the door to the throne room open, but I relax when I see that it's Livy. I haven't seen her in a few days. She's been so busy at the hospital and I've been so busy here. She looks exhausted, she looks sad, but most of all she looks worried. I must look worse than I thought.

I gesture to the beads sitting on the arms of my throne. "It's amusing how much a rock song can speak the words of your soul."

"You'll carry on
And though you're broken and defeated
Your weary widow marches, oh
Do or die, you'll never make me
Because the world will never take my heart
Go and try, you'll never break me."

The song comes to an end soon after those lines, and I tap on my beads to stop the next song from playing. Livy doesn't say anything, she just slips into the room and shuts the door closed behind her, slowly approaching me.

"He pushed me out of the way," I tell her, rubbing my temples. "I would have been caught in that blast, too, but he pushed me out of the way."

"That's what parents do." She says quietly.

"Before the Skrulls came, right after we arrived in Beijing, I lost it," I confess, keeping my eyes locked onto the ground. "I lost it and I confessed to him every insecurity about myself I've ever had. He looked so hurt, he couldn't fathom the thought of me comparing myself to him. He told me I needed to believe in myself, that if I expect myself to fail, then fail is exactly what I will do. He said I need to accept my best, accept myself, accept that I'll never be anything more or less than I already am."

She doesn't say anything. She just waits.

"Some of his last words to me were pleads for me to be the man I am, not the man he is. Bast...he must have died thinking I resented him, that I hated him. You didn't see his face, Livy, he looked so hurt when I told him how I felt, how I've always felt and viewed myself. One of his last wishes was for me view myself in a better light, but I don't know if I can. His death, Aunt Okoye's death, they were my fault. I failed them. I failed my people. I failed. I'm worthless."

"That's not true." Livy whispers.

"It should have been me," I whisper back, tears flooding into my eyes, my voice shaking. "He should be here, not me. He's the king Wakanda deserves, not me."

Livy marches up to me and kneels down in front of me, placing her hands on either side of my face, tears beginning to spill down her cheeks. "I refuse to hear any kind of talk like that from you. God, I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You're the best person I know, there is no one else on planet Earth more worthy of being king than you. But it's not about what I think or what everyone else thinks. Uncle T'Challa was right. You need to look in the mirror and accept the man you see. You need to see yourself, your true self; the man who cares about his people more than anything, who always tries to make the world around him better, who's loyal, who's intelligent, who's best will always be good enough. You need to love yourself, Zy."

My lip wobbles. "I can't."

"Yes you can."

"I thought I could when he said it, but now...Livy he's gone. I deserve to punish myself for that. He's dead because of me."

"Our family has been destroyed from guilt for too long. Dad, Mom, Uncle Alex, Aunt Jade, Analiese, Jo, you...it has to stop. Where does guilt get anyone? Nowhere. All it does is rip you apart and keep you from healing, keep you from moving on. Uncle T'Challa wouldn't want you to blame yourself for his death. He would want you to forgive yourself and begin healing."

Livy leans up and pressed her forehead to mine, her voice so tender and soft it threatens to break me all over again. "His last wish was for you to be happy. Won't you grant him that final wish?"

I break down, my body lurching forward as sobs escape my mouth and echo throughout the throne room. Livy's hands leave my face and wrap around my shoulders, gathering me into her arms. I lean my head against her chest, my tears staining her already blood stained lab coat. As I do this Livy's hands leave my shoulders and hold onto the back of my head, he'd fingers sinking into my hair, her voice gentle and just as broken as mine as she tells me she loves me, that she believes in me. Over and over and over again.