Vienna, Austria
The Aftermath
4:00 p.m.
The fires continued to rage in the UN building where the bomb had struck. Smoke surrounded the building, pellets of ash continuously raining in the soft, afternoon breeze. Firefighters tended to the flames, dousing it with streams and streams of water. An emergency helicopter flew over the building, flew over the street, straight to the hospital.
In the streets of Vienna, emergency vehicles, police, and hundreds of reporters, civilians, and minimal wounded integrated into one massive crowd. Some reporters filmed the carnage currently taking place in the building high above, offering insight to the millions watching at home or work. Others tended to the wounded, tended to most anything that needed attention.
It was a constant swarm of lights, sounds, wails, and smoke. People walked back and forth, lost in their own conversation, paying little heed to what existed around them. And hardly anyone, practically no one, noticed the newly-crowned King of Wakanda sitting on a nearby bench.
All except for three individuals.
Natasha Romanoff, Twilight Sparkle, and Starlight Glimmer walked together on the sidewalk. No one seemed to pay much attention to the Avenger and her extraterrestrial allies, as there was much more to be tending to. Instead, the three paused, all three seemingly frozen in their steps.
They had seen the horrors of the aftermath firsthand. They saw the wounded, the killed, all hauled away to be properly tended to. Ash and soot painted their skin and coats, but only slightly. They still appeared presentable, but had been through the chaos and walked out with a few scratches. Now, they stood mere feet from the king, not doing much of anything after that.
Natasha made the first move, and sat down to the bench behind her. Twilight and Starlight followed slowly, still quite shaken from the entire endeavor. They never did seem to be at their strongest. They wobbled when they sat, they shook when they were still, and their breathing—despite training from Cadance—was uncoordinated. Sporadic.
The two mares didn’t seem to recover as well as Natasha had.
As for the Widow, she stared straight to the king sitting to her right. She turned in his direction, studying him, noticing the blood splotches on his suit, forehead, and palms. He seemed to be staring off to somewhere distant, his eyes a million miles away into another world. He may have noticed her, he may not have. He didn’t say anything.
So, Natasha said, “I’m very sorry.”
Both Twilight and Starlight turned their heads towards the woman sitting next to them, their eyes drawing near to the shell-shocked young king to their far right.
Natasha gulped, then continued. She noticed the ring between T’Challa’s bloody fingers. “Your father was a great man. Wise, strong, a true leader. There are some things we can control, and some things we can’t. Death is never easy. Believe me… I know.”
T’Challa stared at her. He stared at the ponies sitting next to her, their eyes trained on him. Once again, he saw passed them, saw passed many things, and stared on. Almost in shock. Almost in denial. But nowhere near the state of collapse. He knew better. His father knew better.
He played with the ring, felt its design. Its lineage. Staring off yet again, T’Challa said, “In my culture, death… is not the end. It’s more of a… stepping-off point.”
The flashing lights of the ambulance changed to the flames of the campfire from his childhood. The wails and cries from distances unknown became the creatures of the night, singing to the darkness. He thought back to the stories he was taught, every tale and every legend.
He clutched the ring. “You reach out with both hands, and Bast and Sekhmet, they lead you into the green veldt… where you can run forever.”
Twilight’s breathing was silent for the moment, her eyes wide as she stared into T’Challa’s thousand-yard gaze. Starlight joined her teacher, remaining silent for the moment. Natasha nodded. “That sounds very peaceful.”
“My father thought so,” T’Challa said. Slowly, he put on the bloody ring. “I am not my father.”
Natasha saw that stare in his eyes, the sudden shift in his tone. She had seen that shift so many times before. “T’Challa, task force will decide who brings in Barnes,” she told him.
His mind was set, his target clear. The hunt had begun, and he would not stop. Clenching his fist, T’Challa rose from the bench he sat on. He offered a wavering glance to Natasha and the two mares, finally saying, “Don’t bother, Ms. Romanoff. I’ll kill him myself. Princess… Starlight… It’s been a pleasure.”
Then he walked away. Natasha didn’t watch him leave, instead choosing to stare at the ground. Twilight and Starlight stared at his backside as he entered the crowd, disappearing among the many that swarmed the emergency vehicles.
Twilight continued to stare at him until she couldn’t anymore. His image slowly began to wane, the words quickly striking Twilight for the first time. She thought back to what he said, how he’ll kill Barnes himself. James Barnes. The Winter Soldier. She, Starlight, and Natasha had seen the news not too long ago, shocked to see the man Steve had considered his last friend from his time commit such atrocities.
She didn’t know if it seemed to be real, if the events that had occurred actually happened, or if it was really James Barnes that had planted and detonated the bomb that killed seven people and injured fifteen more. Maybe he was still mentally unstable. Maybe he was still with HYDRA. Maybe she just didn’t know.
All that matters are that people died, and they had a lead on who did it.
A soft ring emerged from her right, prompting both Twilight’s and Starlight’s attention to Natasha. She pulled out her phone, stood up, and said, “Yeah?”
“You and the girls all right?”
Steve.
Feeling somewhat relieved to hear a familiar voice, Natasha sighed. Natasha turned around, eyed the two mares for a moment, then nodded. “Uh, yeah, thanks, Steve. We got lucky.” The ponies perked up at the mention of Steve’s name, Twilight especially.
Quickly realizing the circumstances of what had happened, and just how Steve would have reacted, Natasha closed her eyes for a brief moment. She dug for the right words, then said, “I know how much Barnes means to you, I really do. Stay home. You’ll only make this worse. For all of us.”
No response for a moment. “Please,” she added.
Finally, a response, one she wished she didn’t get. “Are you saying you’ll arrest me?”
“No…” Natasha shook her head, closing her eyes once more. “Someone will. If you interfere. That’s how it works now.”
“If he’s this far gone, Nat, I should be the one to bring him in.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m the one least likely to die trying.”
He hung up.
Natasha looked to her phone. “Shit,” she muttered, lowering it.
“What did Steve want?”
Spinning around, Natasha looked to Twilight and Starlight, hearing Twilight’s voice and centering her attention on the princess. Natasha pursed her lips, saying, “I’ll brief you two later. Right now, we need to get back to our feet.”
She turned her attention back to her phone, pressed down a few times, and hovered her thumb right over a particular name and number. A particular Stark. “And I need to make another call.”
Vienna, Austria
4:08 p.m.
A nearby coffee shop was bustling with life. From bystanders wishing to get a closer look at the devastation of the UN building, to people watching the news from the multiple televisions lining the walls, and finally to people just trying to get a fresh coffee for the afternoon.
Another patron entered the establishment, noticed by no one. He wore a hat, heavy shades, and paused right next to a second patron sitting down, wearing almost the same exact choice of clothing. The two didn’t acknowledge each other’s presence for several seconds, the one sitting down finally turning his eyes—shielded by the shades—to the one who had entered.
Captain America hid himself pretty well, Sam Wilson thought. Not a single soul turned their way.
Sam asked, “She tell you to stay out of it?” Steve didn’t reply, his silence being answer enough. Sam shrugged, facing forward. “Might have a point.” He took a long sip from his coffee.
“He’d do it for me,” Steve said.
“1945, maybe,” Sam replied. Steve remained silent, Sam sighing. “I just want to make sure we consider all our options.” He turned to the Captain. Steve turned to him. “The people that shoot at you usually wind up shooting at me.”
Rogers noticed Sam’s attention to shift passed him. Offering his own quick glance, Steve spotted Sharon Carter to his left. That’s all he did. Too much attention was something they didn’t need.
Sharon understood. Recently emerging from the chaotic mess not too far away, she had picked up a few interesting details, some she wished to share. “Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter Soldier goes to their gym. Most of its noise. Except for this.”
She placed a blank folder on the table, sliding it over to Steve.
He picked it up and placed it inside his jacket. Sharon said, “My boss expects a briefing, pretty much now, so that’s all the head start you’re gonna get.”
“Thank you,” Steve told her, not even looking her way.
Sharon knew they couldn’t risk it. She told him, “You’re gonna have to hurry.” And before she turned to leave the two Avengers, Sharon eyed Steve for a short moment, saying, “We have orders to shoot on sight.”
“What about Rainbow?” Steve asked, causing Sharon to pause. Steve continued to stare forward, not looking, but speaking. “Is she sure about this? She doesn’t want to head back to the facility?”
Sharon shook her head. “She’d fight me if I forced her on that jet.”
“Guess we got Dash on this one,” Sam added, Steve turning to him. Sharon quickly made her escape back outside, back to the mesh of people surrounding the UN building. Sam asked, “You want her with me?”
Steve nodded. “Yeah, keep her close. I’ll call you two in if I need it. But I need to see him. Just me.”
That was understandable. Downing whatever was left in his cup, Sam wiped his mouth and placed the empty coffee mug aside. He pulled out the correct currency, left it on the table, and asked, “Are we good?”
With confidence, the first time in a while, Steve Rogers nodded.
“Let’s find our missing person.”