What if we lived in a world where magic and spells were real....
And you're a commoner who's developed your skills of spying and thievery so well that you get hired by a very wealthy foreigner to break into the tower of the most powerful sorcerer to steal (valuable thing).
And what if a quirky, awkward, highly intelligent, daydreaming sorcerer catches you in the act. As punishment for breaking into his home to Rob him, he casts a spell on you that will make you his loyal servant..
And what if the spell doesn't work because your magical gift is absorbing other people's powers. And you've kept this secret to yourself for so long it feels like he's peeking into the most intimate parts of your soul when he looks at you and says "Huh, so the legends are true."
Micky sat awkwardly in the small transporter jet. It was somehow spacious and claustrophobic at the same time, especially with Shuri sitting across from her with a dark scowl on her face. While her anxiety was still at an all time high, Micky could still see how her appearance and behavior would look.
She probably thinks I’m a spoiled ass brat, throwing a tantrum.
I should ask her how she’s doing.
She probably hates that she had to come fetch me when there are more important things going on.
But what happened to Erik? Is he hurt?
And her brother? Is he still missing?
“You know, Micky… I am sorry for being harsh to you. Erik told me before he went on his mission that things had been difficult for you with your family. And that you had lost your job.” Shuri’s features softened while she spoke, but the sadness lingered. “I’m sure you have questions.”
“How are you?” Micky was overwhelmed by the hollowness in Shuri’s voice. The normally vibrant sharpness in her eyes was dull, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in weeks.
“How am I?” Shuri paused for a moment. “I’m….”
Micky waited patiently. It seemed like Shuri hadn’t considered this question at all. Just because she’s a genius doesn’t mean she’s not still a kid. Has no one checked on her?
“I’m tired, Micky.” Suddenly, tears poured down her face. Weeks of fear and sadness came rushing out of the teenager like a broken dam. Micky got up from her seat to crouch by Shuri’s feet. “MY BROTHER IS GONE, MICKY! HE’S GONE!” She balled her fists up, pressing them to her eyes as she fought her way through emotions too big for anyone to take.
Micky was stunned into silence, placing a comforting hand on Shuri’s knee while allowing her to cry herself out. Glancing toward the front of the jet, Micky made eye contact with the pilot – a beautiful bald-headed woman dressed in a regal gold and crimson uniform. The woman gave a slight nod of approval, and then turned back to the controls. Oh. Things are worse than I feared. This child is capable of so much, but she’s still a child.
Shuri wasn’t sobbing anymore, having lowered her fists. It looked like she was trying to disconnect from the pain.
“Hey, Shuri. Look at me.”
Shuri kept her gaze straight ahead.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, little girl!” Micky hoped she wasn’t overstepping, but she would do anything to keep Shuri from shutting down. Better to get it all out, now. I suspect there is much to do when we land.
“What do you want?! WHAT MAKES YOU SO SPECIAL, EH?” Shuri shot up from her seat, glaring down at Micky. “Don’t look at me like that! Don’t talk to me like he would. My cousin is in a coma! MY BROTHER IS GONE!” She was breathing hard, face twisted in anguish. Micky’s heart ached, but she wouldn’t allow herself to falter now. Better she takes it out on me now. It’s the least I can do to help.
“I’m not special, Shuri. I’m just me. Let me be a friend to you. You gotta let that shit out, or you’ll drown in it. Don’t be like me. Cry, yell, scream, hit things….but don’t hold it in. Do you understand me?” Micky didn’t know where this protective side of her came from. It didn’t matter. She loved this girl no matter how grown she acted.
N’Keesa sat quietly, listening to the theatrics taking place behind her. She could hear the woman, Micky, standing up and offering to hug the princess. It gave her a great sense of relief that someone saw the child, and not just the royalty and genius. The only people who ever treated Shuri like a person was her family, and right now, they were all too deep in their own grief.
N’Keesa wondered if this Micky could make a miracle happen, and help nurse Prince N’Jadaka back to health. Shuri and the doctors had done all they could, making him stable and comfortable, but he would not awaken. Apparently, this was the woman he could not stay away from. N’Keesa would reserve her judgment until she understood the dynamics better.
“Princess and honored guest. We have arrived.”
“Thank you, Keesie.” Shuri responded with the nickname she’d used for N’Keesa since she was a toddler.
N’Keesa already felt better about bringing Micky to their homeland.
“Welcome to Wakanda. Welcome home.” N’Keesa spoke warmly to the women behind her.
Shuri watched Micky from the corner of her eye as they prepared to disembark from the jet. She knew that the older woman was scared and worried about Erik, but she hadn’t asked about him outright. She suspected that Micky, for all her advice about not holding in her feelings, was avoiding the topic.
Either way, Shuri knew that they would address it soon enough. She waited patiently as she watched the wave of awe wash over Micky’s face at seeing Wakanda for the first time. “It has that effect on everyone.” she said, lightly teasing her friend. “Pick your jaw up off the ground.”
Micky’s jaw snapped shut with an audible click.
“Princess?” N’Keesa – her favorite watcher as a child – gestured ahead toward the entry of the palace where Queen Ramonda stood.
Wakanda was the most beautiful and futuristic place Micky had ever seen. From the flight deck, she could see the street below. Everyone wore kimoyo beads. Kids rode on actual hoverboards that floated a few inches off the ground. Every Wakandan looked regal and divine. Not an ashy lip or knuckle in sight. There were drones navigating delivery routes. The greenery was rich, and flowery making the air smell fragrant and light. There were a lot of people wearing white around the palace and down on the main street.
“Micky?” Shuri beckoned as she moved toward a woman that looked like an actual goddess among humans.
As Micky approached, the older woman held out both of her arms in welcome. “Greetings and welcome to our home. I am the Queen Mother, Ramonda of the Panther tribe.” It seemed exceedingly formal given the circumstances, but royalty worked differently than regular families. The image had to be maintained through all the pain and suffering of the humans who wore it.
Upon Queen Ramonda’s head sat a tall white headdress adorned with white pearls set in a lined pattern from the base to the upper crest. Her gown was strapless, but lacked no class as it hugged her bosom and flared out around her in countless loose strips. Her cleavage – if such a word can be used for one so divine – was decorated with white dots shaped vaguely like a low hanging necklace. Her sandaled feet sported white toes that matched her short and practical fingernails. Micky noticed the callouses on her knuckles. This woman is a warrior. I wouldn’t want to piss her off on the street, let alone in a palace full of bad bitches with spears under her command.
Micky wasn’t sure if she should bow or reach out for a handshake. As she stood in front of the woman who had helped raise Erik, she squeaked out a shy “Hi, ma’am.” Trying her best not to completely shrink in front of the intimidating figure standing before her.
Micky almost fainted when the Queen reached out and hugged her in one arm, gripping Shuri tightly in the other. Unsure of what else to do she wrapped her arms around both of them, feeling more supported in this moment than she had most of her life. She almost burst into tears when she felt Shuri’s arms complete the embrace. This is how this should always feel. Whatever formalities that felt wrong before no longer mattered. The emotions, however unspoken, were fully expressed in this tenderness and strength radiating from the Queen.
“You will call me Auntie, Mikaela.” Auntie Ramonda’s voice felt like actual satin and velvet and honey and every nice thing at the same time as she spoke. She must know the effect she has on people. There’s just no way she doesn’t. “I’m sure you must be worried about Erik.” She pulled back enough to look at both younger women with a serious, but loving, expression. “There is much to explain. Come, I will talk as we walk to his rooms.”
“I’m worried about him, yes.” Micky hesitated a moment. “And I’m sorry for your loss…Auntie. Please call me Micky. Everyone else does.”
The Queen smiled and nodded as she turned to escort them into the palace. She spoke as she walked. “Erik was in South America after chasing a distress signal from my son’s suit around the world for weeks. It was a trap. Erik and two others were captured after they managed to fight their way to the center of an abandoned village. That’s where they found…”
“Mother?” Shuri’s voice shook.
“Aht aht, Shuri.” This interaction would be cute under other circumstances. “Let me finish.” Ramonda took a deep breath. “Immediately before their capture they reach an entrance to an underground laboratory. Within, the body of King T’Challa lay in the early stages of decomposition. To be precise ‘Tell Auntie we found his body.’ was the last thing Erik said before all communication was cut off. It was enough to convince the counsel to send a small army made up of Erik’s beloved Bloodhounds and several War Dogs to retrieve the heir.”
This last part was spoken in a cold tone. Erik is the heir? Somehow I think he likes his space and privacy a little too much for this. And somehow I don’t think the Queen likes that either.
“Ma’am….Auntie?” Micky wasn’t sure how to pose her question. “Are you saying that Erik would be the king, now? And Shuri said he was in a coma. But what does that mean? What did they do to him?” Now that the shock of the moment was wearing off, the panic was setting in again. There was no way the protective, charming, powerful man who would burn down the world for his loved ones was taken down like this. I need to see him. I need to see it to make this real.
The Queen glanced over her shoulder. The depth of emotion in her eyes nearly stopped Micky in her tracks. Shuri shot a disapproving glare for the rudeness of the interruption, but didn’t speak.
The ladies stopped in front of an ornate door, whose frame was painted gold with intricate spirals and designs carved into the surrounding wall. The handle itself showed an image of a boy standing beside a large man with a cat suit on. The angry look in the boy’s eye was all Micky needed to see to recognize Erik’s scowl. As the gravity of what she’d learned and the anxiety in her chest sent ripples of intense terror through her body, Micky felt her hands tremble.
“He is in here. The sight may be shocking at first. He was badly injured before our people were able to retrieve him and our general.” While Micky couldn’t imagine this regal woman crying, the pain in her face was undeniable. “Shuri..” She spoke to her daughter in what Micky assumed was Xhosa. The two women walked down the hall a bit to continue their conversation.
The guard at the door looked at Micky with a muted expression. He was the first male warrior she’d seen since they’d arrived. His uniform, she noted, was not crimson and gold like the elites from earlier. There was an emblem on his shirt pocket that bore the image of a large dog – Erik’s beloved Bloodhounds.
“Can I see him?” Micky asked the guard politely. He nodded, pushing the door open before stepping aside.
As she entered, the first thing Micky noticed was the sterile chemical smell that accompanied all hospital rooms. But underneath it, there was the unmistakable scent of Erik. The bed in the middle of the room was so large that Micky wasn’t certain there was an official name for the mattress size. The frame had translucent fabric hanging down all around it, somewhat obscuring the figure within.
Micky glanced around nervously, immediately noticing the wall covered in weapons. Many of them she couldn’t name. The opposite wall opened up to a large balcony with lounge chairs and a small table – all painted white with gold trimmings.
At the moment, she couldn’t appreciate the view. I’m not ready to see him like this. She walked up to the bed, trying her best to ignore the low beep of the heart monitor. I can’t do this. She reaches out to push aside the curtain. Oh no.
As soon as Micky’s eyes landed on his face, her stomach dropped. The long gash splitting Erik’s face from his forehead, down between his eyes, and across the bridge of his nose was stitched closed. While it seemed mostly healed, the scar would remain for the rest of his life. How is it healing this fast?
She reached out her hand to touch his cheek. Most of his body was covered in small scratches. Those aren’t his keloids. His trophies.There was a small breathing apparatus feeding him air through his mouth. It looked similar to the throat tubes they used at American hospitals, but way more efficient and less bulky.
“Oh Erik. I’m sorry.” Her vision blurred as hot tears poured from her eyes. “Baby I’m sorry.” Micky didn’t know what else to say. She knew there was no way she could have been there to save him, but it didn’t matter. Somehow, she was at fault. She let all her pent up anger and sadness out until she felt hollow inside, and then she cried some more. So much had gone right in the last month, and so much had gone terribly wrong.
A warm hand gently squeezed Micky shoulder, followed by another handing her a box of tissues. Turning, she saw Auntie Ramonda standing next to her with a look of concern and pure empathy.
“There is more you should know, Micky.” An attendant brought a chair over for the Queen to sit next to Micky. “He sustained multiple broken bones, all of which have been reset by advanced medical technology here in the capital of Wakanda. Herbs from the mountain tribes were used to cleanse his blood of any infection. Nanobots were injected into his brain to help repair damage to his spinal column including his central nervous system. We used vibranium to fashion a new right lung for him, as his own lung collapsed.”
Micky felt her soul shrink with every word the Queen spoke.
“Wakanda’s royal medical team can work modern day miracles, and have saved Erik’s life, but the road to recovery for him will be long and painful as his body adjusts to the changes.” Ramonda paused to take a deep breath. “As far as we knew, you were his closest loved one outside of Wakanda. We felt you should be here. We all want him to wake up soon, and I think he will be happy to see your face on that day.”
Micky felt too empty to be appreciative, but she nodded her gratitude. “I’m praying he will wake up soon, too.”
“I’m told that speaking to people in comas is good for them. They can hear some of what’s being said to them.” Ramonda turned her face away for a moment, clearly fighting back tears. When she turned back, her face was neutral again. “Maybe you can do the same. It can’t hurt.”
And with that, the Queen stood and left with her personal attendant in tow.
Micky took a moment to think. What could I possibly say?
Erik felt like his skin was on fire. Everywhere he looked, bullets were flying. When he tried to throw a punch to stop an attacker, it felt like he was underwater. When he looked over at Okoye, swinging her vibranium spear, he felt pride in his homeland despite the intense exhaustion that weighed him down.
‘GET DOWN!’
A smoke grenade popped in the bunker they’d fought their way into. He reached down into his thigh pouch for the glasses that would allow him to see heat signatures through the smoke. The moment his eyes adjusted, he brought up his arm to block a downward swing at his head. The lightweight vibranium armor under his clothes kept him from losing an arm to the very sharp blade pressing toward his face, but his tiredness allowed his assailant to push downward. He roared as he felt hot blood pour from his forehead down his face.
Kicking out, he felt his attacker’s knee give out under his boot. Pulling a long blade from the sheath on his chest, he returned the favor 10-fold as he repeatedly stabbed the soldier in front of him.
He’d noticed early on that none of these cronies wore any identifying articles of clothing. They were all matching and very well trained. They must have had voice distortion of some sort, because the ones that screamed all sounded the same as they died. He couldn’t tell their sex or disposition. This was a highly professional operation.
As he shifted his weight to move toward Okoye’s position, he felt heat at the back of his skull that sent lines of fire down to all of his limbs.
“My Prince!!” Okoye’s scream was the last thing he heard before he fell.
A week had gone by since Micky arrived in Wakanda. After the first day, she’d texted her family to let them know that she had taken a trip on her own to Africa.
“I’m healthy and safe. I’ll keep you updated.” She’d even sent a photo of the view from Erik’s balcony and a selfie to keep them pacified. Naturally, her mother had tried to call her, but Micky always declined. She would regularly send updates, but she still wasn’t ready to talk to her mother yet.
Satisfied with the content of today’s update, she hit send and went back into Erik’s room. He was in the same position as before, but now he looked mostly healed. Occasionally, a nurse would come in to clean him and check his reflexes. He would hate that so much. That nigga has too much pride.
He had begun to lose weight, and it worried Micky to no end that her lover was withering away in front of her. She felt powerless to help him, even though both the Queen and Shuri believed she was a necessary part of Erik’s recovery. It felt like an absurd amount of pressure, but she would do whatever it took.
Every day, she fed him fruit and vegetable purees with the nurse’s supervision. They would inject him with other vitamins and nutrients that were more easily processed through his blood. Once, a doctor came in with Shuri to add a gentle electrical current to different parts of his body in the hopes of causing a reaction. Micky thought it was oddly archaic for such a technologically advanced place, but she was no medical professional and kept her mouth shut.
Erik’s room had all the facilities Micky needed, so she rarely left his side. The bathroom here made the one in his U.S. condo look decidedly low class. The place felt like a built in spa, and the tub was basically a heated pool. Nothing needed to be turned on – the water temps were preset and each spout was motion censored. Micky had almost jumped out of her skin when she leaned into the shower searching for a handle and it automatically came on at the perfect heat. The bathroom mirror somehow remained clear no matter how steamy the room got, and the towel rack was automated to push out the freshest warm towel – or cool towel if you changed the temp settings.
Out of curiosity, Micky looked through his drawers one day, finding elaborately detailed garments fit for a royal prince. His life here is very different. Somehow, it feels like he likes it better out in the world. He likes having his feet on the ground where real shit happens.
A knock came at the door, startling Micky. Up until now, everyone just came and went as they pleased. The knock felt out of place.
“Yes?” Micky said nervously.
A beautiful woman with tightly coiled hair and deep brown skin smiled brightly as she leaned into the room. “Hello, ma’am. I am Tetea. I will be your personal attendant.” The woman – Tetea – blinked expectantly at Micky.
My what?
“Excuse me? What does that mean?” Micky wasn’t sure how to react to what she was hearing. “My attendant?”
Tetea, to her credit, maintained a pleasant demeanor as she explained. “Yes, ma’am. I am here to assist you with any necessary tasks, and to acclimatize you to life here in Wakanda. We do not know the length of your stay, but you should feel at home while you are here.”
“We?”
“Yes, ma’am. Her Royal Majesty has assigned your care and needs to my humble self. May I start by helping you orient yourself around the palace?”
I have a personal attendant to help me get familiar with this place. And help with anything else I may need.
She looked down at Erik’s face, feeling conflicted between staying with him and exploring the palace. She kissed him gently on the cheek before gathering herself up.
“Umm. Yes….I guess that would be very kind of you.” Micky stood to follow Tetea, glancing back at Erik’s sleeping body before closing the door behind her. “Please, call me Micky.”
He felt soft lips caress his cheek. The sensation almost made him cry. Now, more than ever, he wanted to be with Micky. He missed the wrinkle in her brow when she was thinking hard about something. The way she snorted when she laughed about something especially funny. How she would hum off key while she typed up a new story for her blog.
Babygirl, I’m coming.
When he could feel again, everything was pain. His left eye was crusted shut and the smell of dried blood made him nauseous. The way his forehead and nose stung, he knew there must be a cut there. He could only hope he hadn’t lost his eye as well. Forcing his head to move to one side, he could see Okoye’s face contorted with grief and pain. He couldn’t see what she was looking at, but he knew deep in his soul what it was.
My cousin is dead. T’Challa is gone.
He took a quick inventory of his body. Legs, numb. Arms and chest hurting bad, probably shattered bones. Facial injury, probably bad. Eye, stuck shut. Kimoyo beads, gone. Inner ear, also confiscated.
What else do I have? Looking over at Okoye, he turned his head back and forth a few times until the motion caught her attention. Her perfectly shaped eyebrows lifted in surprise to see him alive.
Rather than speaking to him she bared her teeth, clicking them together several times. Erik didn’t know what to make of the gesture at first. Then, she did it again, this time touching her tongue to her canines before clicking her teeth again.
OH SHIT! She’s right!
Summoning all the strength he had left, Erik moved his tongue around his dry mouth. His gold slugs were still there. They were more than just an enhancement to his aesthetics. They served a very real purpose.
Concentrating with what little energy he had left, Erik clicked his teeth together in Morris code. The same message over and over again. He prayed it would reach who it needed to.
He wasn’t sure when he lost consciousness, but his last thought was of Micky and the feeling of her kiss on his cheek.
The desert was unforgiving. The air was crisp and painfully dry, causing Erik’s lips to crack no matter how much water he drank. The last update from Wakanda tracked T’Challa to a desert in northern Chile, one of the driest deserts on Earth. Erik, a few of his Bloodhounds, and two Dora Milaje were following coordinance to an abandoned village, not too far from one of the large telescopes astronomers used to track stars and planetary movements.
Erik was feeling a kind of exhaustion that he wasn’t used to. They’d literally been around the world searching for T’Challa over the course of 3 weeks to no avail, but this time felt different. The Black Panther suit was keyed specifically to T’Challa’s biometrics which meant only he could activate certain characteristics of the suit. Each time it had been activated, they’d pounced on the signal, but could never get to the place in time. Killmonger was pissed at whoever was playing with him. And it was very likely that this signal had remained in one place for so long to spring a trap. It was very likely that they were walking right into it, if they hadn’t already.
Killmonger wasn’t worried too much about that, though. Everyone on this mission was a willing volunteer, and willing to lay down their lives for his and T’Challa’s. He would feel pride in that fact if it wasn’t likely about to be sorely tested. Whoever they were up against was an obvious pro, and had the resources to move around quickly and efficiently without being noticed.
Killmonger thought back to the moments before they disembarked from the jet.
“We already know that T’Challa’s last mission before he was taken was a lead on the location of Klaw. That makes this personal.” Klaw had killed King T’Chaka right in front of his son and nephew. Erik had spent weeks blaming himself for it. He had been behind the scenes running security. It was his job to make sure that no one could get into the charity event without being vetted by his team. Someone had dropped the ball, but ultimately the responsibility rested on his shoulders. While no one in his family held him personally accountable, the stain of it grew a long suppressed resentment in his chest. Now we both lost our dads on some bullshit.
“Yes, Klaw had been spotted by a War Dog just outside of Cairo. The operative attempted to pursue him quietly after sending video and several still images of the target. They were never heard from again. T’Challa went with two Dora Milaje to seek information under the assumption that Klaw had already escaped the area. Communications stopped suddenly within 24 hours of touch down. A team was sent to investigate. The Dora’s bodies were found mutilated, T’Challa was nowhere to be found.” Okoye’s deep voice resonated throughout the body of the jet.
This was information they all knew by heart. It had been repeated every time they were preparing to land. Killmonger wasn’t sure why they all needed to have the same conversation everyday, but it seemed to be a ritual between them. Everyone became more focused by the end of the ritual briefing. The mood shift was damn near palpable. He could feel everyone’s intensity as they waited the last few minutes to land.
As usual, he looked over at Okoye at the end of the meeting. She looked at him with vague irritation. Several times, he’d taken her aside to ask her to go back home. It didn’t make sense for both the Prince and the General to be on the same mission, especially one this dangerous. As usual, she had some choice words for him and what he could do with himself, in both Xhosa and English. And as usual, he let it drop. If she wants to die like this, then fuck it. Let’s get the job done. Okoye wasn’t a field agent, she was better accustomed to controlling things at the helm. But, Erik wasn’t going to keep arguing with her about it. All help was welcome out here.
After they landed, Erik sent up several crows to scope out the area from above. The tiny machines operated very similarly to drones, but they were the size of a mosquito, and enabled a live high-def feed without needing instructions. He'd collaborated with Shuri designing them, but she had worked her magic in making them so damn intelligent and adaptable. They knew the difference between "friend" and "not-friend" and could interpret hand signals in hostile territories where speaking was too dangerous. With it being just after sundown in the desert, they could also see in minimal to no light. The crows would catch things that human eyes would miss, but human instincts were going to be what got them through.
The air was tense as they all took their positions at opposing edges of the village according to photos taken earlier from above, using the scanners from the jet. Okoye held the eastern position with her Dora and a Bloodhound. Erik held up the west with the other two Bloodhounds. They would move inward in a spiral until they met in the middle. Moving straight in would be sloppy, and both teams needed to see whatever was coming as they searched the abandoned village. Like any good plan, it was adaptable depending on which team encountered difficulties on the way to the center.
“Alpha, the crows ahead of Omega’s position are showing strange symbols carved into the walls.” Shuri’s voice spoke softly in his ear. She was using the crows to seek ahead of them. “There are no images ahead of your position.” Now, that was interesting. It wasn’t safe for him to speak aloud, so he signed in the air, trusting that she had a crow trained on him as well.
Can interpret?
“Not yet. I will update..”
Affirmative. He kept his crouch low, moving steadily toward the center of the village. He felt the hair on his neck stand up, and ducked without hesitation. A loud thudding sound right about his head brought his gaze up. Blood dripped on his face from the edge of a very sharp blade. The thud was the sound of the blade hitting the wall he was crouched against.
“Alpha? Respond.” Shuri sounded worried, but her voice was steady.
Trouble. Beta injured. Kappa unknown. He spun with his gun ready to discharge at a moment’s notice. Sights?
“It looks like a trap was sprung, but there was no electronic signal given. It must have been tripped by hand, or by some movement made by your team.” He considered this as he clicked the light on his rifle twice. After a moment, he received the correct signal back. His third team member had been too far back to be harmed. The twitching decapitated body between them almost made Erik gag. Kappa wasn’t looking too hot, either.
Erik looked around until he found a rock close by, kicking it across the distance toward Kappa. Hmmmm. Weight difference wasn’t what tripped it. He searched the weather worn stone walls to either side of the narrow walkway. No symbols just as Shuri said. Just a hollow space on one side where the blade had been tucked in. Even that pocket was worn as though the traps had been laid a long time ago. Whoever was using this place to hide T’Challa was just taking advantage of an old hideout. This is some Indiana Jones shit and I don’t like it. Next thing we’ll be chased down a tunnel by a big ass boulder. Killmonger checked all his weapons and signaled for Kappa to advance. Once they were back into position, he led the way carefully toward the center of the village.
“Alpha, I have noticed a correlation between the symbols. Do not move.”
He held up a hand to halt the advance. He hoped Shuri would elaborate more. Right as he was about to signal his impatience, her voice broke through. “The symbols are instructions, or more accurately directions. When Omega’s team passed the first symbol, it triggered a trap on your side of the village. I noticed this because the next symbol triggered a trap elsewhere in the village.”
No symbols our side.
“That was correct until now. You were about to pass one on your right. It may trigger a trap on Omega’s side. They have been informed of the risk.”
Fuck. He thought to himself about whether or not to call everyone back to the ship and allow the crows to seek out more symbols. Clearly, they didn’t know exactly what they were up against.
No power. How?
“I don’t know. Somehow they are communicating with each other. The symbols.”
Crows hit traps?
“The crows aren’t big enough to send them ahead to trigger traps.”
Abort?
There was a moment of thought on the other side of the comm piece.
“Awaiting confirmation from Omega.” Shuri sounded like she wanted to cry. They were potentially very close to finding her older brother, and couldn’t go anywhere near him. Not without a better understanding of the environment. This wasn’t like the movies. Lives were at stake, and carelessness would cause more death.
“Abort confirmed.”
Initiate extraction sequence. Disable autopilot. The crows would send the instructions to the jet, and it would pull itself into position above him first, and he would guide it to Omega’s position to complete the task. He knew how long it should take the jet to reach them, but it hadn’t come yet. Something was terribly wrong.
Crows to sky. Jet not responding.
“Awaiting visual confirmation of the jet. Stand by.” Only ten seconds ticked by, but it felt like an hour. Erik kept his eyes forward, as he was sure Kappa kept his toward their backs. “Jet in previous position. Manually overriding. I will fly it to you.”
Confirm. Eyes wide.
“Alpha. Jet not responding. Omega suggests physical back out. I will keep working on the jet. You’re gonna have to back out on your own and return to first position. You have the map of the layout on your beads. The crows will show as yellow dots when the coast is clear. Purple when there is something moving that is not you. Any symbols you may pass will show as red. Affirm.”
Affirm. Back out. He signaled to Kappa. He would take up the rear this time. Both of them had the map up on their kimoyo beads, dimly lit so as not to blind them to their surroundings. Yellow all around for the moment.
They progressed forward slowly, taking time to confirm with their own eyes what was being shown on the map. Wakandan tech was extremely reliable, but nothing ever worked better than 99.9%. The possibility always existed that something wasn’t accounted for, the body they’d left behind was proof of that.
There wasn’t a question in his mind that whoever had T’Challa knew exactly where they were, and why’d they’d come. It would be in their best interest to get rid of their precious cargo, either by killing him or returning him for a price. It would be stupid to keep this chase up, when they were clearly getting closer to getting him back. Holding T’Challa for much longer would be stupid. He would be succeeded before his hostage situation would be allowed to cripple Wakanda. Having royal blood meant knowing what your price tag was, and T’Challa’s value as a brother, son, and cousin meant nothing when weighed against the needs of a nation. Someone would have to take his place, and soon.
Erik’s instincts flared again. He glanced down at his bracelet. The crows closest to them were still a cautious yellow. He widened the perspective to encompass the entire village. There was a purple circle around the entire structure. He halted the advance, deciding that silence wasn’t the most important thing at the moment. “Open all lines. Angel, Omega, we’re surrounded. Get the jet over us NOW.”
“Alpha. How can you be-” He could picture Shuri performing the same acts he did, widening the visual on the crows, and realizing the shit storm forming around them. “But, why didn’t they throw up a signal? None of the ones on the perimeter are moving. And any crows I move beyond the edge of the village go offline. There must be some low level interference that is affecting them. They registered movement, and then went offline before completing the warning transmission.”
“Focus, Angel. We need extraction now. How long ago did they register movement on the border?”
An explosion from the eastern side of the village was his only warning before he heard the click of a grenade being released closer by. He pulled Kappa back with him into a rundown, single-story building. The roof was in pieces, barely offering any cover, but it would have to work. BOOM. The ground vibrated beneath their feet, throwing both of them off balance and causing the closest wall to begin to lean in. Killmonger and Kappa scrambled backwards, narrowly avoiding being crushed.
Fuck. Killmonger thought to himself. Exhaustion and being too damn eager had them walking straight into a trap. T’Challa might not be here at all, a risk they were willing to accept, but now they were potentially going to be joining him. Dumb. He scanned their surroundings as he decided what to do next. Kappa was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but he would still wait for the order to be free to act independently.
“Angel, you got control of the jet yet?” There was no answer for a moment. “Omega respond.”
“Alpha, we are boxed in near the town center. There are no routes out.” Okoye’s voice sent a shiver through him. He’d always admired how deep it was. Focus. “Alpha, respond.”
“Omega, I’m coming to you. Angel, get control of the jet, I’ma get Omega.”
“Understood, Alpha. Jet systems are coming back online now. I will get to you ASAP.” Shuri finally answered him.
“You got it Kappa?” The other man nodded. A quick check of gear, and they were ready to set out. With one wall down, they were completely exposed on one side. We’ll just make another exit. Reaching into his pack, Erik gripped a flash grenade and pulled the pin, throwing it through the doorway. He signaled to Kappa to avert his eyes, doing the same himself. Within seconds, there was a blinding flash that turned the inside of his eyelids pink. He heard the all too close sound of people with night vision goggles grunting or yelping in pain.
A cold smile cracked his lips as he pushed his rifle back over his shoulder, and pulled two daggers into his hands. “Forward.” Kappa required no further instruction. They needed to eliminate as much of the threat as they could on the way to Okoye’s team. Hubris had them walk into this shitstorm, but rage was about to keep them alive for as long as possible.
Killmonger rolled his shoulders as he walked out where the wall had collapsed. Five of their assailants all stood with their masks off, rubbing their faces. He moved like a lion, all muscle and deadly accuracy. As he moved through their would-be attackers, slashing and pounding until the area was silent. He readjusted the map on his bracelet, and moved toward the red and gold dot that was Okoye’s team.
My nigga coming…. Micky’s voice rang loud in his head. It had been a while since he allowed himself to think about her. My nigga coming. So you might wanna disappear. Erik pushed his way past the corpses toward the city center.
I’m coming alright.
Weeks had gone by without a word from Erik, and Micky’s feelings were a wreck about it. She kept forgetting to eat, and showers seemed like a difficult thing to manage. Her hair was a mess, and the bed sheets smelled like sweat and sadness. She didn’t care one bit about any of it. Erik was gone again. She had been in contact with Shuri several times, but she was only a child, and it wasn’t fair to add stress to her just because Micky was anxious. Erik was grown and very experienced at these kinds of missions.
Unfortunately, the negative voice in the back of her mind kept telling her this time he wouldn’t come back to her. Sometimes the voice got louder, and sometimes it was just an annoying whisper. Today, it was screaming. Micky rubbed her temples for the hundredth time. Her forehead had broken out in terrible acne since she kept touching her face with greasy hands.
It’s not fair. I’ve lived without him before. Why does this time feel different?
Thinking back, it was probably a mistake to move into his place. After his sudden departure, Mick tossed the idea around for about a week, before she decided that a little isolation might do her good. It would be easier for her to focus on herself, and finish getting her writing out there more. And it had worked for a few days. Then, something shifted inside her. She felt chaotic and couldn’t keep her attention on anything for more than a few minutes. She’d slipped into a depression, and even the regular updates from Shuri couldn’t lighten her mood anymore.
It hadn’t taken her long to move her few belongings into his place. She’d left the futon, but put her TV and refrigerator and some of her books into storage. She brought her clothes, laptop, and jewelry with her to Erik’s condo. Rufus shat on the floor a few times out of indignation before settling in. After informing Shuri that she would be moving, her lease was bought out, and the landlord never bothered about anything again. It seemed like everything should be perfect, but it wasn’t.
Three and a half weeks after Erik walked away from her, she heard the buzzer for the first time.
What the fuck? Her instincts were sparking off. She sprinted to his bedroom, where her kimoyo beads were sitting on his bedside table. It couldn’t be Erik coming back because he would have just used his key to get in. Gripping the beads in her hand, she almost fainted when they started vibrating. Her phone buzzed in her other hand. Shuri-cakes. The name flashed across the screen like a judgemental auntie. Girl, stop hiding under the bed like a fool. Get up and handle business like a woman.
Micky knew that she was overreacting, but her mind was so scrambled that she couldn’t make herself get up. Answer the phone, babygirl. “Huh?” Was she actually hearing Erik talk to her now? Fear knotted in her stomach at the thought that she was a little more out of control than she realized. It’s okay, ma. I’ma be right here with you. Shuri is gonna keep calling if you don’t answer. “Oh, right. I should answer.” Good girl. Now get up.
Micky jumped when her phone began to ring again, but this time she answered. “Hey, Shuri.”
“Hi, Micky. Have you listened to any of my voicemails?! I have been trying to reach you forever. Are you home? I’m outside. Let me in.”
Micky sighed to herself. Shuri was still a whirlwind of chaos no matter the circumstances. Micky had been avoiding using her phone out of fear that her family would be harassing her about her sudden disappearance. Guilt crept in around the sides of Micky’s crumbling mental health. Isolation wasn’t helping her.
“Wait! What? You’re outside of Erik’s condo? Like right now?” Shuri had spoken so fast, that detail almost snuck by.
“You live there, too. It is your home. Answer the door.” Shuri was starting to get impatient.
“Oh ummmm. It’s kinda a mess in here. Do you want me to come down and we can chat somewhere else.” Micky could hear the exasperated sigh on the phone.
“You aren’t wrong. It is a mess in here.” Shuri’s voice echoed in Micky’s ear. “Micky where are you? Erik would not be pleased with all the food containers sitting in here. Looks like you haven’t washed dishes in forever. We’re going to need a cleaning crew in here. Micky come on out, now.”
“Shuri?” Micky called out. Hearing Shuri in her ear and in the condo was confusing her senses. She knew it was easy enough for Shuri to visit since her family owned the building, and she was a genius hacker. Still, though, Africa was far away and it seemed unlikely that anyone from Wakanda would be coming all this way while their king was missing. Let alone coming to the US to visit. That meant there was bad news. And Shuri came all this way to deliver it herself.
“Micky?” Shuri’s voice echoed from the hallway just outside Erik’s bedroom. The door was open so it sounded loud and sharp. Slowly, Shuri’s head peaked around the doorway drawing a gasp from Micky, who was still crouching by the bed like a frightened animal. “Bast save us! You look wretched.” She examined a shocked Micky from just outside the doorway. “Are you going to attack me or something? You look nearly feral. Have you been in the sun lately? It would probably do you good. We are leaving this place. What do you need to keep with you?”
Micky stared in shock at the businesslike young woman standing. Despite being obviously young, Shuri exuded royalty from every pore. Her natural hair was braided in a halo around her head, with sparkling jewels dotting the outside. Shuri was dressed casually in dark blue jeans and a T-shirt several sizes too big, tucked in on one side, sandals on her feet. Her toes were painted a loud pink to match the large backpack slung over one shoulder. There were white dots drawn under her dark brown eyes in a pretty pattern.
“You are not okay.” Shuri spoke softly to Micky as though she were a wild animal prepared to pounce any second. She held out both of her hands as she walked toward Micky. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and packed okay. It’s about Erik. We found him. He’s not in good shape. He needs you with him, Micky. I’ll take you to him.”
“Erik?” Something is wrong with Erik? He’s hurt. He needs me. I knew it. I knew something wasn’t right. “Okay. Uh. I just need my computer. That’s it. And uh.” Micky felt so out of sorts while Erik was gone, but the last week had caused a level of paranoia and depression in her that was uncharacteristic. It hadn’t helped that she hadn’t heard from Shuri or talked to any of her family these last few weeks. She’d been too disconnected from the rest of the world. And knowing that Erik was in danger the whole time had cracked something inside her. I knew it.
Micky stood up too fast causing her head to spin, almost falling into a concerned Shuri. Falling back onto the bed, Mcky closed her eyes and listened as Shuri rummaged through her things to get her ready for travel. Clothes landed across her face, startling her into an upright position. “Shuri what the hell!”
“You need to move. My cousin is not well and you are wallowing in your own filth. While I have to come all this way rather than being with my family. Shower and change. I will wait exactly 30 minutes. If you are not ready, I will leave without you.” The coldness in Shuri’s voice made Micky’s throat close up. She sounded so much like Erik in that moment, just wordier. He would not have said it twice.
“Okay.” Micky walked into the bathroom with her bundle of clothes and showered without further discussion. Shuri was right. She needed to move. Movement made her feel better, and having a reason to move kept her motivated. Erik was in trouble, and she needed to be there to help him in some way. Twenty-five minutes later, she was ashy, but clean, and ready with a few items in her backpack. Shuri was speaking quietly into her kimoyo beads in Xhosa. It sounded urgent, so Micky waited patiently for her to finish shifting her weight back and forth. When Shuri was finished talking, Micky cleared her throat gently. The younger woman spun around and crouched with a blade in one hand, and something that looked like a grenade in the other. Micky stood very still until Shuri returned to an upright position.
“Sorry. You snuck up on me.” Shuri turned toward the door. “We’re going up to the roof.”
“Alright.” She followed. Micky knew that Shuri was young, and it made coldness in her eyes even more disturbing. She’d grown accustomed to Erik’s mood swings, but the shift was hard to keep up with in Shuri. It wasn’t natural. Things really are bad for their family right now.
Once they boarded the futuristic looking jet hovering just above the roof of the condo, Micky felt settled enough to begin to ask questions.
I may or may not have accidentally started another Erik fic 😳. It was supposed to be a short smutty smut, but now it's taken on its own personality. I may actually have to make chapters...
Erik walked into his condo feeling frustrated. Micky hadn’t hit his phone all day, and that made him feel stupid. Had he been wrong to start opening up to her the way that he did? Maybe she really wasn’t ready to be in his life. Maybe she had reconsidered his offer. Maybe I shouldn’t have told her that I love her.
He realized he was staring out the same window again, and decided to sit on his couch. He could still smell her there, so he went to his room instead. Should I call her? Vulnerability was very unusual for him. His family couldn’t even break through his walls as a kid. Somehow, Micky melted his icy ass and had him questioning parts of his life that he never considered. Several thoughts kept swimming around in his head. Does she love me back? Did I fuck up too many times? This shit never bothered me with any other women. Why does she have me like this? Should I just cut ties and let her go? Nigga stop being so paranoid! Sitting on his bed, staring at nothing wasn’t helping, he needed to get up and do something.
The sun was almost down, but that wouldn’t stop him from jogging around the park one time. Monsters in the dark weren’t a threat to him. I’m way more dangerous. He found himself thinking about Clarence again. He’d seen on the news that Ms. Clarita Hayworth had reported him missing. Since Clarence was Black, the news had brought up previous sexual assault charges against him. There were short clips of his grandmother saying that he was a “good boy” despite the fact that he wasn’t invited to any family functions because he was “a little strange.” People always made excuses for things that should be dealt with harshly. Especially, if the nigga was family. He’d seen the same bullshit in the news any time a Black celebrity got in trouble, unless it was a woman. Erik was disgusted.
He finished changing out of his work clothes, deciding on jogging the three blocks to the park. He never needed music. When Erik exercised, his mind naturally went silent without prompting. Just like when there was an important mission to be done. He could think and react still, but it was in a detached way. His body wouldn’t even register pain the same way. After a short stretch to loosen his muscles, he hopped up and down a couple times, then began his run.
Ten minutes later, he was rethinking the lie he’d told Micky about the new scar on his left arm. Should I keep the truth from her? She’s understanding, but there is only so much I can throw on her shoulders. It was a hard thing to reconcile with. He’d gotten into this life because he was full of rage as a child. Then, he’d seen Wakanda, and it had made him even more furious than before. Staying there made him feel so much disgust for how isolated that place was from everywhere else. Yes, T’Challa did what he could, but he was only one man, and his morals stood between him, and following through on the mission.
Erik’s responsibility as a Prince of Wakanda was to revisit the places that his cousin could not. Bad guys around the world were perfectly aware of how busy heroes could be. They knew the chances of being caught again were slim, especially not right after a recent bust. So, they went back about building their illegal enterprises slowly and more carefully. That’s where Erik got involved. He just killed as many as he could, leaving only the weak ones who would run poor operations. Occasionally, they would find a new leader, but he’d set up his own system of war dogs to monitor as much activity as they could. His special forces, that he proudly renamed Bloodhounds, were allowed to be more active in ways that War Dogs could not. War Dogs mostly just observed and didn’t act. Useful in some cases but not in the way that I need. The Bloodhounds would fight if they found it necessary. It was his proudest achievement.
Erik’s mind continued to wander while he jogged. He thought back on the day his uncle, former King of Wakanda, had come to get him. He’d been out of school for a year, learning life on the streets. His father had taught him to fight, so he’d picked up a reputation for being fierce. Puberty hadn’t made him tall yet, so he’d picked up the name “Lil Kill.” It had bothered him a lot at the time, but it stuck until he hit his growth spurt when it was shortened to Kill. He was sitting in a jail cell, not for the first time, when a big dude in a catsuit showed up and sliced his way through the bars. That was the second most shocking day of Erik’s life. The first being the discovery of his father’s body in their apartment.
Bzzz bzzz. He checked his phone. Call me. Speaking of family, his Auntie was texting him. It was rare that she would message him unless she was being nosey or had something important to tell him. He hoped this wasn't an emergency.
Erik sighed. His relationship with his Aunt Ramonda was complicated. While they technically shared no blood, she’d taken over most of Erik’s care. Ramonda took one look at the angry boy and saw what he needed in that moment: a mother. His “Auntie” was the only one who could scold him and actually make him feel bad about the shit that he did. However, when Erik ran away one too many times, she began to pull away from him, feeling like he might be beyond help.
Erik found it hard to talk to her sometimes because he felt like he let her down. She was never rude, but her over-politeness made him uncomfortable. It was hard for him to explain his need to do what he did to anyone, sometimes even T’Challa. The stain of his father’s murder by T’Chaka sat heavy on the family, making it hard for all those who were old enough to remember him to deal with each other. It made Erik grateful that Shuri was so young when it happened. She adored him in ways that no other member of the family could.
Erik finally gathered up the nerve to make the call. “Hey Auntie.”
“Hello, Erik. How are you doing?” He always loved the velvety sound of her voice. It caressed his ears and brought a smile to his face despite his nerves.
“I’m doing good. How are you?” Even if it was an emergency, his Aunt required this formality from him. It was almost comical when he thought about it. Shuri would still be running her mouth about her reason for calling, not giving him the chance to speak until she ran out of breath.
“I’m doing well.” There was a hesitant pause. “Have you heard from your cousin T’Challa recently?”
“No, ma’am. It’s been about a month. You probably would have seen him last.” Erik looked around himself at the park. It was dark, so he would only make himself more visible if he used his kimoyo beads out here. “Let me get back to my place and I will call you there.”
“Please do, Erik. It’s important.”
Now, he was nervous. Despite her formalities, Erik could hear the nerves in her voice. Something was going on and it involved T’Challa. She wouldn’t call him like this unless it was serious.
He began his jog back home. Micky probably won’t like this. I don’t like it either.
Micky went back and forth about whether or not she should call her mom. The lady had pissed her off so bad, she really wanted to stay away for a long time. At the same time, it felt weird being cut off from all forms of support except for Erik. He was likely to be getting a new mission soon, which meant that Micky would be alone again, and most likely would end up right back in the mix with her rude ass relatives.
Just call the old lady. Micky dialed up her mother’s number, breathing deeply to calm her racing heart. When it went to voicemail, she almost fainted from relief. I wonder what she’s doing. She almost never misses my call. Deciding it wasn’t something to panic over, Micky went back to filling out job applications.
Some time later, after sending off writing samples to multiple blogs and sites that discussed interesting topics and current events locally, Micky turned off her laptop and flopped back on her futon cushion. Erik better be quick about replacing my shit. He has way more money than me. Speaking of him, it was time to apologize for her shenanigans. Micky dialed him up.
“Hello.” He answered almost immediately. Alright then.
“Hey, Erik. I know it’s a little on the late side, and you had work earlier.”
“You know none of that shit matters, ma. Wassup?”
“I’m sorry for cutting up earlier. I know you have your reasons for keeping some things secret. It’s only been a few days. It’s not an excuse, but I got other things going on and…”
“I know. It ain’t a thing, babygirl. I left you alone because I figured you needed a minute. We cool.”
“You sure?” It seemed like this was too easy. There had to be more. Surely, he wanted to yell a little bit.
“I’m sure. We need to have a talk, though. Where are you?”
“I’m at home. You want me to meet you somewhere?” Anything to get out of the house for a little bit. It was late, but surely somewhere was open in the city.
“Yeah. Maggiano’s in 20 minutes?” Damn, no time to get cute.
“Ummm ok. Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll see you there.”
After a quick hoe bath and some lip gloss, Micky was ready to go. Maggiano’s was a little hood pizza store that had space for people to sit, and it was quiet. One of their first dates was here, and the feeling of nostalgia made Micky long for how things were in the beginning. She spotted Erik’s truck outside of the pizza store, and parked behind it. He was already sitting inside with a large order of hot wings and fries. There was an empty cup for her to choose her own drink. Most of the other details were lost on her as she focused on Erik. He had on workout gear like the other day, basketball shorts and such. His shirt had long sleeves this time, though.
“What you staring at?” He noticed her wandering eyes.
“Uh, nothing. Sorry, I’ve been moving around all day. I’m tired.” Not entirely a lie.
“Sit down.” Now, Micky felt her instincts kicking in. Usually, a hug or kiss would have followed his teasing. Why was he being so distant now?
“Oh. Yes, sir.” She planted herself in the dingy booth across from him. It never ceased to amaze her that this fine specimen of a man enjoyed eating at some of the unhealthiest places. Everything about this place screamed “HEALTH VIOLATION” but he loved it here. They’d come here multiple times while they were dating before.
“We need to talk.” Micky’s heart fluttered a little. She couldn’t decide how to feel about this. Erik knew she had anxiety, so he shouldn’t be using open phrases like that.
“Please just say it. You’re leaving again, aren’t you?” Unwanted tears made her vision blurry. Her mind told her that she was overreacting, but her emotions weren’t in her control anymore.
“Babygirl, please don’t cry.” Concern wrinkled his brow. “It’s about my family. My cousin is missing. They need me there now. I have to help find him.”
Micky’s emotions were all over the place. His cousin is missing? He’s leaving me? His family needs him. Shuri needs him. But I need him, too. “Alright. Yeah, you should be with your family. I understand that completely. I will miss you, though.” She meant every word, even if it tore her to pieces inside.
“I’m glad that you understand. But I don’t want to leave you here alone. I know you got a lot of shit going on with your family.”
“I’ll live with it. I been doing that for 25 years. I’ll be okay.” At least, Micky hoped so.
“You shouldn’t have to deal with all that bullshit, though. Listen, I had an idea.” He looked at her hopefully. Micky nerves were a wreck and she was trying not to snap at his incomplete phrasing. She needed him to just say what he wanted from her, rather than saying that he wanted something.
“Please, just come out with everything. Stop leaving it open. My anxiety can’t take all that.” This was driving her insane.
“Okay, damn. Here’s the deal. I want you to live at my place while I’m gone.
Well, then. “I….uh….don’t really know how to respond to that.”
“I’m not gonna have time to get you a new futon. I’ve been so busy with work and everything. I would rather just have you live there. Shit, somebody has to use the space. I don’t have anyone here, but you.”
Micky felt a weird mix of feelings. She had a lease at her current place, so she would have to break it if she moved. There was also the fact that Erik probably didn’t want Rufus tearing shit up in his place. The biggest problem was that Micky was currently unemployed, so how she would afford anything there was beyond her. Another thought occurred to her while she went over the possibility of living with Erik.
“What did you do with that review that I wrote about Minxie’s?” She thought about it periodically throughout the day, but was more worried about making sure that she apologized to him for snapping before.
“That’s not what we’re discussing at the moment.”
“I know, Erik!”
He sighed in poorly contained frustration. “I can show you that when we get back to my place.” He glanced away. “Or yours.”
“As in, my current place?”
“Tell me what you wanna do? I’ll go with it either way.”
“I still have a lease.”
“I’ll buy it out. My condo is paid for. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything like that.”
“Your cousin is missing?” Now, more details were starting to filter through her first wave of shock.
“Yes.”
“And you’re worried about me having a place to stay.”
“My family is sending transportation for me within the next two hours.”
“Well, that’s fast.”
“None faster. Not on Earth, anyway.”
“Not….on….Earth.” Micky felt panic starting to rise in her chest again. She focused on her feet, the way they were placed on the ground. She needed to be aware of her physical self so she didn’t get caught up in her emotions. She concentrated on wiggling her toes, flexing her calf muscles, tensing and releasing her core. This went on until she felt her spirit settle a bit.
“Better?” Erik waited patiently as ever for Micky to get herself under control. Micky nodded that she was okay. “You can refuse the offer if you want. It was just an option that would benefit both of us. Someone would be keeping up my place while I’m gone, and you would have less expenses to worry about.”
“True. I just don’t know what to say.”
“Keep my keys. If you decide to move in, you’ll already be that much closer.”
“But what about the people who own the building? What will they say about me just showing up randomly?”
“My family owns the building.”
Micky wasn’t sure if she heard him correctly. “Your family…..?”
“They own it.” Erik’s gaze was intense as he fought to get her to understand how serious he was. “I’m leaving in less than two hours, babygirl. That’s a fact. How long I’ll be away is undetermined. I have to find out what happened to my cousin. But, I need to make sure you’ll be alright while I’m gone. Don’t tell anyone about my place. Let it be somewhere you can go where no one will ever bother you. Don’t bring anyone there. Do you understand?”
Micky nodded slowly at him. This was a little too much for her. Erik was leaving, and giving her a condo at the same time. There was nothing normal about this conversation.
“Eat.” It was a quiet command and she obeyed it without further comment. Every time I get a handle on my feelings about him, things change again. Why couldn’t I have dated a normal man? Why did I respond to his text the other day? I knew I should have blocked his number.
Micky finished off the last of the wings, eyeballing the fries as she realized she hadn’t eaten the entire day. Erik pushed the plate toward her as an invitation, one she accepted with enthusiasm. When she finished, she felt less lightheaded. Erik was polite enough not to stare while she ate, but his eyes were focused on her intently, now. “We should go back to my place.” He said after a few moments. I need to show you something."
Erik was fully aware that Micky was having a hard time processing all her emotions. Life had been unkind to her these last few days, but she was going to have to push through it. He needed her to be alright, but his reasons for giving her his place to stay at went deeper than that. If T’Challa was compromised, then so was Erik. Their organizations worked in tandem, and only they had full access. That meant that a lot of things would be changing fast. Had someone spilled on them? This was going to be tough, but she was strong enough to take it.
Back at his place, he handed her a parking pass to keep inside her glove box whenever she entered the garage. It was keyed to her alone. She already has his key card for the door, but he wanted her to have the access codes to change the information should the card get lost. He’d also had a set of kimoyo beads made for her, but he wouldn’t have time to teach her the basics of how to use them in case of emergency. Those would have to be typed up.
He’d already put Shuri to work getting a secure phone for her to use. The number wouldn’t change, but it wouldn’t be hacked easily as long as she was careful. Shuri would also be securing a laptop for Micky. Any person that he cared about needed to be protected, and that included Micky.
As Erik explained all of this to Micky, he could see that much of it wasn’t sinking in just yet. He’d typed up basic instructions to help her later when reality set in. He was pissed that he didn’t have the time to go over everything in great detail with her. By the time he was finished, another hour had passed, and they had maybe forty minutes left with each other.
“Listen.” She looked up at him. “I love you, and I’m saying all this shit because I want you to be okay.”
“I know.” She looked so sad, but not broken. There was more of a look of resignation on her face, as though she had already accepted how fucked up everything was. “Show me what you did with the stuff I sent you.”
It took him a moment to understand what she was referring to. “You mean the video?”
“What video?” That got her attention.
He pulled out his phone and loaded it up. It was at an awkward angle, but there was Kelly’s greasy ass face in all its ugly ass glory counting money as a very courteous Erik asked for her attention multiple times. It was a short clip, but it was damning enough, and by now would be on several sites that carried customer reviews of stores.
Micky gasped as she looked up at him. Several seconds ticked by before she spoke. "Petty Wap." A hesitant smile curled the corner of her mouth. "You really did this?"
“Yeah. It’s really small. I been thinking about making some other things happen, too.”
“Like what?” She looked concerned, but curious.
Should I do it? Should I tell her how badly I wanted to put sugar in Kelly’s gas tank? Should I tell her my other thoughts about Kelly? “I thought about a lot of things. Sugar in the gas tank. Or even sending a more direct message, but I didn’t want her trying to retaliate against you when I wasn’t around.”
Micky thought about his words for a moment. “Sugar in the gas tank is actually a cool idea. I just don’t want her children to be without transport. If that bitch was single, I’d even go with you when you did it so I can learn.”
Erik was shocked. He stared at Micky for a solid 10 seconds before he was able to speak again. “You think that shit is cool, huh?” He felt himself getting hard at the thought. “You feel like cutting up a little bit?”
“I feel like setting up boundaries and making sure there are consequences when people don’t listen.” She said it so smoothly, but there was no joke in her voice. She meant that shit.
“Okay, babygirl. Remember you said that shit for when I get back.” If I get back.
She looked sad again. “Okay, Daddy.”
“Aht Aht. I don’t have enough time to play with you tonight. I gotta go in…” He checked his phone time. “...15 minutes.”
She sighed. “Alright. So, do we just sit here and wait, then?”
“Nah, I wanna tell you something else. I wasn’t born in Wakanda, but all my family is there.” There was only fifteen minutes to get it all out. “My father was murdered when I was young. My mother’s been gone so long I don’t remember what she looked like. Several years after my father’s death, my uncle came and found me, offering me a place in his home in the African nation of Wakanda. He was the king there, and as his brother’s son, that made me prince. I started working for him at a young age, since I could never listen to anyone else. He was killed by a high level fence, called Klaw. My cousin is king now. Shuri is a princess. There’s not enough time to tell you anything else, but I will tell you when I get back. I promise. If I come back, I’ll take all my time telling you anything you want to know about me.” There it was.
“So, that’s why you have all this shit?” Micky looked around the living room.
“No, my family owns the building, but I work for my shit. Just like you.” He wasn’t sure how to feel about her reaction.
“I believe you. You can’t sit still too long to let someone else take care of you.” She smiled at him slyly.
“Kiss me, babygirl. I gotta go.” He reached across the couch and pulled her towards him. She squealed at the sudden loss of balance, eventually settling in his arms. Her lips were so soft, and slightly spicy from the hot wings. It didn’t bother him. He wanted this moment to last forever, and nothing mattered as much as the feeling of her body against his. Erik wanted to savor the taste of her for as long as he could. Micky matched his enthusiasm, gripping the back of his head to deepen the kiss.
At the precise moment that Erik was about to throw caution to the wind and strip both of them down, he felt his wrist vibrate. Fuck. Of course he would be cockblocked by the goddamn Dora Milaje. It was time to be a prince. He felt himself going cold as he pulled away from Micky.
“It’s time for me to go, babygirl.” It was hard to focus on her face right now. The tears she was fighting back were so close to falling, and he hated more than anything that he was the reason for them.
“Be safe. Come back, okay?”
He nodded to avoid the need to speak again. He wrapped her in his arms one last time before heading out the door. He never bothered packing, since his transport would be well stocked with anything he needed. On his way up to the roof, he felt his heart freeze solid. T’Challa didn’t need Erik right now, he needed Killmonger. And that’s exactly who was coming to save his sorry ass.
Micky felt hollow. He’d walked out of her life again, and now that she knew the severity of the situation, it felt like maybe he wouldn’t make it back. She began to wonder why she’d asked so many questions before. Maybe not knowing was better than this.
Who the fuck am I kidding? This has been one the wildest rides of my life and well worth it. I’m a different person than just a few days ago, and have access to so much more now.
And it was true. Micky was more confident, more assertive, more inspired than she had ever been. Even with Erik gone, she knew she would ultimately be alright. It would be lonely, unless she decided to date someone else, but she could handle that. That wasn’t unusual for her at all. She had a lot of hard decisions to make in a relatively short amount of time, but she would make them. Rufus was probably staring at his food bowl, angry at the world because he could see the bottom of it. There was also the matter of her family for her to deal with, but that could wait until she figured out where she wanted to live. And who the fuck wouldn’t want to live here?
But there was also the issue of whether or not Erik would still want her when he got back, and if she could live with him leaving for long periods of time. I suppose this would be a good test of whether or not I can make this work. There was much to do and little time to do it.
“I’ll get it done, though.” She spoke out loud to herself.
