Wakanda, August 12, 2016

Nobody spoke a word. Nobody dared to move or even swallow. All eyes were on the unconscious woman with the dark-skinned face and light ivory-toned body. Steve's hands trembled at his side. The moment Okoye's husband and the head of security of Wakanda's Border Tribe, W'Kabi, had contacted T'Challa to say they'd caught the woman impersonating the nurse, Steve had been counting the seconds until they brought her to the medical ward. But now that she literally lay within reach, he couldn't bring himself to even touch her.

"You good?" asked Sam.

"No," admitted Steve. "But let's get this over with."

He took a deep breath and de-activated the Widow's Veil attached to the young woman's face. The camouflage sheet flashed, reverting Danica's visage to the one they'd all believed dead.

"Nemesis," Sam whispered in awe. "Son of a bitch, that little minx."

Steve carefully peeled the tech device off. He gently caressed Nemesis's brow and temples, searching for the seams of a wig, but there was none. Her own dark-brown hair was almost black, so it'd fitted naturally among the Wakandans.

"I will call off the search for our missing corpse," said T'Challa.

Okoye gave a scoff. "She's lucky W'Kabi had orders to bring her in alive. He's been irked about her slipping through Wakanda's defenses for days. And after what she did to me, he wanted to —"

"That's enough, Okoye."

The proud Dora General tsk-ed in annoyance at her Crown Prince's stern warning, averting as much as she could in her wheelchair. Steve paid them no heed. He only had eyes for Nemesis. The more he thought about her, the fewer things made sense.
The assassin had taken a Wakandan's appearance to move freely through the city, but the security footage outside Bucky's room showed a blonde woman eerily resembling Evelyn as well. Logic dictated Nemesis must've changed faces from one to the other, but why go to such lengths? Why not simply frame the nurse and get the hell out of Dodge while she could? And what was her relation to Evelyn? Why use her image to make Bucky suffer? To make him suffer?

"How long will she be out?" Steve asked.

"That is hard to say," answered T'Challa, brow wrinkled in thought. "Nemesis is a super-soldier like you and Sergeant Barnes, but has eaten nothing since we captured her, so her natural defenses may be lowered. And she was hit with enough voltage to take out a herd of elephants. It may be some time."

"Where will you keep her?"

 But no one seemed to have an answer to that question. Nemesis had proven her skills more than once. Heck, not even a vibranium enforced straightjacket had held her back.

"What about the cryo-pod?" offered Sam. "Put her on ice until we sort this out."

"No," said Steve resolutely.

"Why not? It's safest for everyone involved."

"I'm not freezing my daughter, Sam."

"Cap, she's outsmarted us way too many times already. Bucky is in surgery, again. Shuri is playing damn Operation to unhook that device from his heart before it kills him. Do you really wanna give this girl another chance to finish her job? You wanna risk everyone's safety just because she may or may not be your daughter, and she may or may not know if your sister is still alive? We need some goddamn answers first!"

"She's the only one who can give us those answers!" Steve jumped to his feet, adrenaline and anger pumping through his body. "We still got nothin' on her DNA profile. Evelyn's journal is missing, and —"

"And Nemesis has been playin' you from the start!" yelled Sam. "You're too close to this! You need to step back right now before you make things worse!"

"The hell I will!"

Sam wasn't even remotely impressed by Steve's sudden hulking figure and met his glare bravely. T'Challa took a protective stance in front of Okoye, clearly expecting a fight between the two. But though their fists were balled, neither took the first swing.

"Brother."

Shuri's voice broke the deafening silence. The tension between Steve and Sam diffused instantly, and they stepped back, their bodies turning toward T'Challa. He pulled up her projection through his Kimoyo beads. The Princess' deflated expression stilled Steve's heart.

"What is it, Shuri?" asked T'Challa.

"Please have Captain Rogers come to the surgical floor."

All eyes settled on Steve. His own vision blurred. Angst gripped him, and he stammered, "Is... Is it...?"

Silence. And then...

"Please come."

***

She'd never imagined she'd end up in Heaven. All the lives she'd taken, all the blood spilled, all the emotion-less hook-ups in search of a quick release... Surely all those things had gotten her a one-way ticket to Hell. Yet amidst the darkness, there was light. Bright, warm, and soothing as a mother's caress.

"M-Mom?"

The sound of her own voice surprised her. It resonated, bouncing off walls. With a strained groan, Nemesis peeled her eyes open. Between blinks, she perceived a white room. A window with a clear blue sky and lush green mountains in the background. Why did Heaven look so... Earthly? And why did it smell like a hospital room?

"Hey, you're awake."

Another voice reached her. She knew the person it belonged to. But that was impossible. Unless... Crap, did she get the dose wrong?

"Try not to move too much too quickly. Your body received quite a jolt."

Nemesis turned her head, instantly regretting it as pain shot through her nerves like electricity. No, that couldn't be. There was no pain in death. But... if she was hurting, that meant...

"I'm still alive," she muttered to herself.

"Afraid so. Not sure how many lives you still have left, so you might wanna hold on to this one."

Any other day, Natasha Romanoff's kind face would've been a sight for sore eyes — even with that awful platinum blonde hair framing said face. But today, it reminded Nemesis of where she was. Of what she'd set out to do.

"The Winter Soldier. Where is he?"

Black Widow's welcoming grin fell away. Sadness crossed her expression as she averted. Nemesis tried to grip the bedrail to pull herself up, but she found herself unable to reach it. The vibranium cuffs around her wrists gave little to no leeway. She looked down, finding the same contraptions around her ankles, waist, and just below her breasts. They'd literally tied her down, making it almost impossible to move.
But Nemesis didn't give in so quickly. She had to see for herself. She stretched as much as she could, ignoring the prickling tingle in her extremities. By the time she could finally peer into the other room, she was all out of breath.

"Wh-Where is he?" Nemesis asked again upon spotting the empty bed behind the glass partition.

"Surgery," answered Natascha curtly.

"He survived?"

"Barely."

Nemesis sank back into her pillow, exhaustion taking the better of her, and shut her eyes at another blatant failure. Why? Why couldn't he just die already? What was it that made the Winter Soldier persevere? There was nothing keeping him to this life.
Tears stung at her eyelids. They stubbornly broke through, soaking her lashes before they rolled down her cheeks. She inhaled through her nose, exhaling ever so slowly from the mouth. But the breathing-exercise didn't help this time. The only thing that would was out of her reach. It wasn't even on the same continent. Lucas had probably hidden her most treasured possession under the loose tile of the gazebo in the garden before he... before...

"Natasha?" Nemesis turned her head to her roommate. "Do you know if Lucas Evans was buried already?"

"Evans?" Natasha raised a brow. "Why do you want to know?"

"I need to visit his grave. To pay my respects."

"You really think you'll be allowed to leave here?"

"Not really. I never even expected to survive. If the Wakandans wanna lock me up and throw away the key 'cause of what I did within their borders, that's within their right. All I'm askin' is the chance to say goodbye to the only family I had left."

"What about Steve? Isn't he your family?"

"Steve Rogers ain't the one I turned to when my entire world fell apart. Steve Rogers ain't the one I cried with when we buried my mother and brother in the same grave. He may be my blood, but he ain't my family."

"You're damn right I'm not."

Nemesis' head whipped toward the open doorway. Fifteen feet away from her stood Captain America, once again adorned in the famous red, white, and blue uniform. Yet things were different. The white star was gone from the center of the top piece. There wasn't a single Avenger-emblem left, and... were the colors darker somehow?
The air grew heavy with tension as Nemesis met his steely expression. Rogers' intense, murderous glare stripped her of her breath. Such hatred... It was the same hatred she'd harbored for the Winter Soldier. The same hatred she'd seen reflected in the mirror for decades.

"You. Killed. Him."

Nemesis' eyes widened. The words she'd been longing to hear ever since she'd surrendered herself in service of the mission should've been a relief. Instead, they crashed through her like a wrecking ball through a wall.

"I... I'm s—"

"YOU KILLED HIM!"

Rogers burst forward, propelled by rage and grief. Nemesis didn't see the gun in his hand until he aimed it right at her.

"Steve, no!" shouted Natasha.

A loud pang was followed by a soft plop as the bullet drove into the pillow and mattress, a mere inch from Nemesis' head. She yelped, taken completely by surprise. Frantically, Nemesis tried to get away, but the vibranium cuffs wouldn't budge. Only when Rogers' angry screams reached her did she cease her struggles to stare at the unsettling scene unfolding before her.
Four members of Wakanda's Border Tribe, including the man who'd tricked and captured her during her attempt to escape, were holding Rogers back. Crown Prince T'Challa, wearing his tight-fitting Black Panther costume, was helping Natasha up from the floor. With a shock, Nemesis realized Natasha held Rogers' gun. She'd saved her.

"Take him to the detention level," ordered T'Challa. "Secure and guard him."

"No!" Rogers thrashed violently against the three men. "She killed him! She killed Bucky!"

"You once convinced me not to exact vengeance, Captain. I return the favor now by preventing you from murdering your own flesh and blood when you only just found her."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT SHE IS!"

Nemesis' entire being went cold when Rogers' blazing baby blues settled on her. It'd been a long time since her pounding heart thumped with something other than adrenaline and the thrill of the hunt. Since she once again experienced that one overpowering emotion she'd so often instilled in others.
Black Panther and his men dragged the crazed Captain out of the room, his cries echoing through the corridor and latching onto Nemesis. Natasha, using her own bed for support, came round and stumbled toward her. She sat at Nemesis's side and stroked her hair like a mother would.

"Все хорошо," she said. "Он ушёл, ты в безопасности. Все хорошо."
(It's okay. He's gone, you're safe. It's okay.)

But the damage was already done. By killing the Winter Soldier, Nemesis was responsible for creating an even more dangerous threat. Steve Rogers had become the thing she herself had been for decades — a true Avenger. And if her only living kin was anything like her, he wouldn't stop until she lay dead at his feet.

***

"Never thought I'd say this, but damn, white boy, you sure know how to perform."

Steve's heated cheeks reddened even more at Shuri's praise. She beamed at him and put down the tablet on which she'd followed his acting scene.

"Thanks." Steve dropped into a chair, fatigue hitting him like a jackhammer. "Who knew those drama classes I took in summer school in 1935 would come in handy one day?"

"I do not know what baffles me more in that sentence," said Shuri. "The fact that Captain America took drama classes, or that you took them in 1935. You and Sergeant Barnes continue to amaze me."

The mention of his best friend made Steve peer at the dark-haired one-armed man lying in the bed against the window, hooked up to several IVs, blood bags, and monitors. Seeing Bucky lying so quietly and pale as death still chilled Steve's blood.

"How is he?" he asked.

"The drugs we've given him seem to have integrated well with the super-soldier serum," said Shuri. "He's recovering faster than I expected."

"Thank God."

When the Wakandan Princess called them up earlier, Steve had feared the worst. Yet to his great surprise, Bucky's surgery had already finished and Nemesis' device had been successfully removed from his heart. Though extremely weak, Bucky had been awake and lucid enough to confirm the woman appearing to be Evelyn on the security feed was indeed Nemesis. Shuri had insisted on giving him a sedative to rest, but not before Bucky had requested one thing of Steve.

"Pretend I'm dead."

He'd been slightly reluctant to do this at first, but even Steve had to admit, it was a brilliant move. If Nemesis believed she'd finally accomplished her lifelong goal, they might get some answers. But everyone also agreed Steve wasn't the one who needed to connect with her at that moment. He had to play the part of a grieving best friend seeking vengeance while Black Widow, an expert in interrogation who'd even tricked a God four years ago, would gain the girl's trust. Their shared past in the Red Room gave her the upper hand in this ploy. And if not, there would always be their trump card.

"What's Sam's ETA?" asked Steve.

"He should arrive in California in about two hours," replied Shuri, as she checked Bucky's vitals. "Do you really think Mister Evans will help us? He made his feelings on Sergeant Barnes abundantly clear last we spoke."

"I'm not sure, to be honest. The four of us were very close, havin' grown up in the same neighborhood, goin' to the same school, runnin' in the same circle of friends... I thought Lucas would be thrilled to see me and Bucky, but his reaction during the video call still bugs me. He and Bucky had a falling out around the same time Evy enlisted. She left 'cause of... a misunderstanding between her and Bucky. If she told Lucas about that, he might still hold Bucky responsible and blame him for everything that happened to Evy afterwards, regardless of it actually being his fault."

"It seems an awful long time to hold on to such a grudge, but it would explain why there were no photographs of Sergeant Barnes in Mister Evans' home. I recognized Evelyn and you in two, but most of the pictures showed a boy. Didn't Sam mention a son?"

"Something else that doesn't make sense."

"Hm, not necessarily. Homosexuality wasn't legal back then, if I recall my American history. If he and his wife had an understanding, they could have lead separate lives even. The boy doesn't have to be Lucas' biological son, either. Just as he would have protected himself, his wife might have, too."

"Because a child born out of wedlock was severely frowned upon, and young women became social outcasts," concluded Steve, recalling some of Evelyn's patients. "Yeah, you could be right."

He dragged a hand down his face, heaving a drawn-out sigh. There were far too many questions, with far too many possible answers. They had to narrow things down and fast. He didn't know how long they could fool Nemesis. She was clearly in shock now, but that didn't take away her skills. She was astute and observant. If Natasha gave her any cause to believe Bucky wasn't dead, they'd be right back where they started.

"Okay," Steve rose to his feet, "let's review what we know. Evy spent most of 1946 undercover with HYDRA, where she reconnected with Bucky. At some point, she escaped or was rescued, returned to the United States, and kept contact with Peggy and Howard Stark, until her death in 1963. We know Nemesis assumed Evy's identity to trick us, which means they knew each other."

"Meaning either Nemesis is far older than we first surmised, or Evelyn did not die when the record shows she did," added Shuri.

"Right. And then there's the genetic connection with me. She could be my daughter or — if your identical twin theory about me and Evy pans out — my niece. But I read something in the journal that suggests Evy might not've been able to conceive at all, so option one is still most likely."

"The only one who can give a definite conclusion is the other parent. Unfortunately, the data is still running, and the profile isn't even fifty percent finished. I have it going at max capacity, but like you and Sergeant Barnes, Nemesis is a scientific and medical marvel. Her having a universally present blood-component and high-probability for chimerism is not making it any easier."

"Do whatever you can, Shuri. In the meantime, I'll focus on Evy's letters again."

"I assumed you would make this your priority, Captain." Steve and Shuri turned their heads at T'Challa's voice. Black Panther stalked into Bucky's room, holding up a book with a worn-down cover — Evelyn's journal. "Nemesis' belongings were all cleared by our security. I wanted to return this personally and to inform you of an interesting detail we found in the blue wrap dress; initials embroidered on the hem. An E and an R."

Steve's heart somersaulted. He tried not to jump to any conclusions yet, since lots of people's names started with E and R, but what were the damn odds the dress hadn't belonged to one Evelyn Rogers?

"Thank you," he said, clutching the journal to his chest, needing to feel it. "How's Natasha doin'? I hadn't expected her to lunge at me, since we agreed I'd miss on purpose. I think I may have shoved her a bit too hard."

"Even if you did, Agent Romanoff is a warrior. Were she Wakandan, she would stand by Okoye's side in the Dora Milaje, and I would be proud of it. Do not worry yourself for her. Her action made our ruse even more believable."

"It better have. I feel like this is our ultimate Hail Mary."

"I have every confidence in our plan. As long as everyone plays their part, Nemesis will not suspect a thing. I shall monitor her and Agent Romanoff from a distance, while Shuri continues her work on the profile. W'Kabi took Okoye for a stroll, but I know she is peeved about staying on the sidelines. Give her the letters, so you can remain here and watch over your friend and your sister's legacy."

"Thank you. Both of you."

With a nod, T'Challa beckoned Shuri, leaving Steve once more with a dormant fellow super-soldier. He sat in the recliner beside Bucky's bed, fully intent on helping both himself and Bucky by reading Evelyn's journal aloud. But after a minute, the words danced before him, and his eyes drooped. Steve's voice trailed as his speech began the slur.
Yet even in sleep, Captain America wasn't granted a reprieve. Reality walked hand in hand with nightmare. The past was catching up to them all. And the last passage Steve read from the diary promised the beginning of the end.

𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚍 𝚍𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎, 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍'𝚟𝚎 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚜𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚜. 𝙸 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚐𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚎. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚠𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑, 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍𝚗'𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚐𝚘 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚠 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚘𝚕𝚍𝚒𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎. 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚢'𝚛𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎, 𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚖𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚢. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚜𝚘 𝚊 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚞𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢.