∆ {4⁸} {VIENNA} ∆ 

Vienna, Three Days Later

ROXI HADN'T GONE to Peggy Carter's funeral. Her mind had been spinning so harshly after her conversation with Tony, that she'd had trouble walking straight, and had fallen into Natasha's arms seeking comfort when she'd gotten back to the redhead's room. Natasha had also promised not to mention it to anyone else, though her concern for the ice-eyed woman she had grown to love so dearly had become considerably stronger with the incident.

Roxi, strangely, hadn't felt close enough to Steve to go either, even after their semi-forced bonding experiences in DC. Maybe it was because Natasha had been the one to drag her into it in hopes of help. But Roxi had still only really opened up to Natasha. Sure, with Tony and Wanda she'd been getting here, but she had no clue what was going to happen now that the Accords had come into play. 

Natasha had gone. Not to pay her respects to Peggy, or to try and find some manipulative way to try and get Steve to try and sign the Accords, but simply to be there for the man, who needed someone exactly like Natasha as a friend. In fact, she was now waiting in a car outside the airport in Vienna, anticipating the moment that Natasha's familiar, vibrant red locks appeared outside out of the slightly squat building, after her flight from London. She had been waiting for forty minutes when the redhead appeared, smelling of sour-cream and onion pretzels - the ones that the longer flights always seemed to have - in a way that didn't mix with her usual rose and vanilla scent so well. She'd ignored the look Natasha gave to her when Roxi offered her a mint, simply linking her hand with Natasha's as the driver started up the car.

In all honesty, Roxi was glad that she'd had the time to prepare herself for the event that was about to happen. While Natasha provided her with a reassurance that she'd never be able to find anywhere else, she'd wanted to have a clear mind for this, just to make sure that she was making the right choice, especially after the open threat that Tony had made regarding the Accords three days prior. They were already changing the dynamic of some of the closest people on the team, and they hadn't even been ratified yet.

Most of the drive was spent in a nervous silence, though both women were slightly too proud to admit that this scare them, and that panic was clawing up their throats so harshly that it burned anytime they tried to speak. At least, that was how Roxi felt. Looking up at the UN building as they drew in, Roxi knew that she couldn't deny the fact that it was impressive, with its modern architecture and massive windows that spanned the whole outside of the third and fourth floors. She remembered the glances that she had exchanged with Natasha before they'd stepped out of the car, trying to instil faith and confidence in each other -  the kind that neither held within them to start with.

The walk into the building had been a blur flashing cameras, clamouring voices, wailing sirens and a tense kind of pressure that seemed to suck half the air from Roxi's already burning throat. Nonetheless, she played her part perfectly, acting as if these Accords didn't affect her, never once stopping to glance at any of the interviewers that screamed her last name. The fact that none of them knew her a true name brought her a sense of satisfaction that she'd never felt before as she almost marched into the building, taking a quick moment to admire the way the building had been constructed as she waited for Natasha's slightly shorter strides to catch up with her own, long, faster ones. It felt as if every corridor that they walked through stopped its entire movement, all conversation hushing as all attention turned to the two seemingly confident Avengers as they strode through their hallways in the sharp suits that Tony had bought them for the occasion.

"Excuse me, Miss Ryder, Miss Romanoff?" A voice piped up from their left, and Roxi found herself stopping even though she didn't really want to when she found that it was one of the UN workers - also dressed in a suit - with a clipboard in hand.

"Yes?" Natasha's reply was immediate, and far more coherent than anything that Roxi felt would fall out of her own mouth in the moment. She was suddenly intensely grateful that Natasha knew how to operate under the pressure of her own nerves far better than Roxi would ever be able to.

"These need your signature." Roxi signed on the dotted line - it was not the Accords - as illegibly as she could. While she had never included her first name in her signature, she had found it finny to see people - mainly Tony, when he hadn't known - try to figure it out by staring at her messy squiggles on sheets of paper, and come up with even more completely random guesses that were never anywhere close to her real name.

"Thank you." The worker scurried away as Roxi attempted to crease the corner of her suit, to purposefully annoy Tony when he watched the footage back. It was petty, but Roxi was angry, and betrayed, and she didn't want to hurt him in such a way that she would break their friendship forever.

"I suppose none of us is used to the spotlight." Another voice spoke up, this time from Roxi's right, as a man she recognised as Prince T'Challa of Wakanda joined the two women as they revelled in their nerves, trying not to let themselves get too caught up in the extravagant workings of their minds. They'd both always had complex minds, though in entirely different way. Natasha's first layers were built of fear - of the people who had raised her - and the lessons that those people had put there. They still affected Natasha so harshly to this say that Roxi wished that there was a way for her to take out all of that programming, to just allow Natasha to be the pretty, forward, skilled, warm woman who she always seemed so comfortable to be around Roxi. Roxi's first layer of mindset was the same. A fear that she had buried many, many years ago as she tried to rid her mind of the ghosts of her past, most of which should've been dead several times over if they had gone through the same pain that Roxi had. Then there was the desperation, the terror that had accompanied her like a dear friend through so many years. From her couple of months on the streets to around four years into her SHIELD career. Then there had been the need to improve, to strive to be the best, which had strengthened and weakened in fantastic wavering motions throughout her next five years at SHIELD. It had only been then that she'd truly learned the importance of keeping her emotions private and close to her, behind a wall - or beneath a trapdoor - that nobody else could get to, because even if you managed to undo all the locks, the weight of them would prevent you from opening either door.

"Oh, well, it's not always so flattering." Despite her screaming nerves, Roxi felt required to say something, so she added on

"Of course, sometimes if can be anything put," in the strongest voice she could muster in the moment, feeling her body begin to loosen and relax as she became more accustomed to her surroundings. She would be able to concentrate on the matter at hand well enough, and much more effectively if Natasha was next to her, helping to ground her.

"You seem to be doing alright so far. Considering your last trip to Capitol Hill, I wouldn't think you would be particularly comfortable in this company." T'Challa's accented voice carried through the tense bustle of the room, seeming to somehow register just louder than everything else, so that it was at the perfect volume. It was slightly odd, the offset of volume, and it made something flash behind Roxi's eyes as another padlock was snapped closed on the trapdoor. Not here, not today, not this week, not this month. She couldn't afford to lose her stability while all attention was on the Avengers, especially at such a large, prominent event such as this one.

"Well, I'm not." Natasha replied smoothly, her eyes routinely flickering to Roxi every few minutes to check if the ice-eyed woman was handling all this - which, put together, was dauntingly overwhelming - or if she needed to link their hands for the smallest amount of extra support. While that and hugging could still be seen as platonic, not much else that they usually comforted each other with could, and Roxi definitely didn't need a bigger section of the world searching  for the idea of a possible relationship between the two women. They already had enough issues with privacy due to the government, and they certainly didn't need  anymore.

"That alone makes me glad you're here. Both you and Miss Ryder," T'Challa responded, his warm brown eyes flicking to the woman who seemed to be lost in her mind as she gazed at a set of politicians conversing in one corner of the room, the faintest smile that he had ever seen twisting her lips. It was incredibly hard to see, and once you'd seen it, it seemed to vanish, and you'd begin to wonder if it had ever been there at all.

"Why? You don't approve of all this?" Natasha spoke up a little louder, gesturing around the room in an attempt to both capture Roxi's attention and keep anyone else's scrutinising gaze off the woman. It seemed to work, because Roxi shifted on he feet ever so slightly and turned her head back towards the pair, her fingers flexing loosely as if she longing to curl them into a fist.

"The Accords, yes. The politics, not really. Two people in a room can get more done than 100-"

"Unless you need to move a piano." A kind, elderly, more weathered voice joined in with the end of T'Challa's sentence, an Roxi found herself standing just a little straighter as the King of Wakanda joined their small group.

"Father."

"Son. Miss Romanoff, Miss Ryder." Roxi had never been in the presence of royalty before. Thor had been Prince of Asgard when she met him, but Asgard was an entirely different realm. Wakanda was a country, and a powerful one at that. Besides, the presence that the pair held together felt more powerful than anything Roxi had ever seen, even when she was standing directly beside Natasha, who was quite literally one of the strongest people she'd ever known. It would've been daunting, if Roxi hadn't known better than to be afraid of a person because of the significance and power that they held.

"King T'Chaka, please allow me to apologise for what happened in Nigeria," Natasha started, her voice smooth and strong as she attempted to repair what could've been a very dangerous broken bond.

"You have our condolences," Roxi added in a similar tone, trying not to come off as patronising or as one of those people at a funeral who's not really sorry, and is only there because it's an obligation.

"Thank you," King T'Chaka acknowledged sincerely, his eyes going to Roxi from Natasha in much the way his son's had, "Thank you for agreeing to all this. I'm sad to hear that Captain Rogers will not be joining us today." Steve had been firmly set on not signing the Accords, and Roxi had hoped briefly in the car that that was just because he wanted to clear things up, make the world a better place, without abiding by the government as he always had done up to this point. She had discarded that thought as quickly as it came, knowing that Steve valued the ability to save other's lives over everything to the point where he would die to save people he'd never known, and he'd lose everything about him at all that he'd ever known, to save those who he considered family. Roxi didn't know Steve Rogers well, but it was enough.

"Yes, so am I."

"If everyone could please be seated, the assembly is in session." A voice crackled through the loud speakers, and Roxi discreetly drew in a long breath. This was where it started. This was where the differences came in, where the dynamic of almost the whole team would be likely change forever.

"That is the future calling. Such a pleasure," King T'Chaka dismissed than, and they thanked him in quiet unison before Natasha made her way over to where there were hundreds of seats, each in arced rows that faced the proud podium that stood alone at the front of the room, a lighthouse in the darkest, most dangerous waters almost anyone had ever seen. The room settled into a tense silence as T'Chaka made his way to the podium, his figure demanding respect as he began to speak, his voice wavering here and there.

"When stolen Wakandan vibranium was used to make a terrible weapon, we in Wakanda were forced to question our legacy. Those men and women killed in Nigeria, were part of a goodwill mission from a country too long in the shadows. We will not, however, let misfortune drive us back. We will fight to improve the world we wish to join. I am grateful to the Avengers for supporting this initiative. Wakanda is proud to extend his hand in peace." Roxi had been focused on the King's words, her mind picking them apart and exploring them for hidden messages of distrust, of malintent, even when she knew she wouldn't find any. She had been so concentrated on that, in fact that she hadn't notice the way that T'Challa had looked out of the window, at something on the street with a fearful, panicked expression. Any other time, she would've immediately picked up on the fact; she'd have acted sooner, more efficiently, more effectively. But yet, she didn't notice until T'Challa turned around and started running towards his father, his frantic yell of

"Everybody get down!" Barely carrying through the air when the explosion went off. Roxi had immediately turned away from the window, and Natasha had grabbed her arm and pulled her arm as it had gone off, and she was glad she had, because a small cloud of flame ravaged the air where her head had been only seconds before. She couldn't hear much. Her ears were ringing from the sound of the blow, so deafeningly that she was convinced it was slowing down her reaction time, making her move slower as she did, shooting up to standing as quickly as she could once the shattered glass and flame had disappeared from the vicinity, putting out her arms and concentrating as hard as she could on simply keeping the building standing. She found every single piece of metal she could, and tried to prevent them from buckling, from falling on more innocent people, from claiming more lives. Most of the girders and pieces of rebar were screaming at her in protest, begging her to drop them, to let them collapse to the ground so that they, so that she could rest. She couldn't hear the screams of the people around her, but she could see their mouths opened wide with the sound, their faces filled with panic, and the frantic way they scrabbled for safety. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Natasha getting as many people as she could out, clearly taking advantage of Roxi's help. She closed her eyes, trying to ignore the way that everything in her body screamed with an agony she'd never felt before, setting her jaw as she felt blood run over her lips, instead pushing even more power out into the world around her, determined to keep the building standing as long as she could.

Roxi couldn't save everyone, but she was definitely going to try.

{A/N:} Again, I realise that this is a pretty shitty chapter so I'm sorry about that. Though, the idea for her to try and keep the building up just occurred to me while I was writing so I chucked it in there anyway. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, despite the fact that it's pretty bad, and that you have a great weekend. Thanks :)

Pls vote, comment, let me know what you think, etc.,

2815 Words

Written: 23 / 04 / 2021

Published: 22 / 05 / 2021

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