Chapter Text
Steve watched as Bucky's consciousness seeped into the frozen lethargy of his cryogenic stasis. He stood a moment longer, said good-bye again, and left Bucky to sleep in his icy bed.
Why was it always ice? Steve thought to himself. He found T'Challa watching from a nearby window and paused to give his farewells.
"Thank you for doing this," he said.
"My father and your friend were both victims. Maybe we can help one of them find peace."
Steve nodded and left. It was time for him to return to help his new friends, even as his oldest lay hidden in sleep.
Bella stood silently by her charge as she flitted from console to console, adjusting settings, testing nozzles, and reading test results.
Still the soldier slept, as he had done for the last six months.
"I wonder if we reprogram his neurons here…" Shuri said to herself, used to speaking out loud since Bella was always there to hear her. She walked back to Bucky's unmoving form and stared.
"Bella, do you find him handsome?"
Bella's head shot up and she turned to face Shuri. "Where did that question even come from?"
"I was just thinking. Well, first I was thinking that he's over a hundred years old. Then I was thinking he looks pretty good for an mzee. Then I was thinking that it would have been a shame if he were dead already because then I would have missed sitting here and admiring his pretty face. Did you see his eyes when he was still awake? That color-I don't even know if I should call it blue or green? But, oh, my heart! I think I will have a dress made in just that color.
"Then I realized I was swooning over a man old enough to be my great great grandfather and that should be really weird except it's not because he is so well preserved, which is how you will be forever. Which made me wonder if you also find him handsome. It's a shame you can't have babies. What I would give to see a baby with eyes like that!"
Bella laughed. "Shuri, do you have a crush on your patient? That's kinda creepy-crushing on the man while he's asleep."
"Shush. You know you were doing the same."
"I most certainly was not."
"Wacha mwongo. Tell me the truth, you think he's mzuri sana."
Bella rolled her eyes, refusing to give in to Shuri's prodding.
"If he were awake, though, I think he would still be here staring at you, dumbstruck at the vision of loveliness before him."
"Shuri!"
"Didn't you see his face when he was going under? He looked like a man in a desert who finally found an oasis and in another moment he would be reaching out to drink."
"Hush! That mind of yours, Shuri, is just as capable of creating imaginary situations as new technology."
"Yeah, yeah. Speaking of which, did I show you my new design for T'Challa's Panther Habit? Come here!"
Shuri abandoned her neurological scans and ushered Bella into another lab where she held up the recently reprogrammed suit.
"Don't worry, I've hidden a transponder in this one as well. He will not even know it is there and I can hear everything going on with him."
"I don't think he will appreciate that much."
"Mama said I could. She is still pretty mad about the whole revenge mission and revealing the Black Panther for the whole world to see thing. She wants to make sure we can keep tabs on him in case he tries for a repeat performance."
"And do what? It's not like you can stop him."
"No, but you could," she said with a sly sideways glance.
"Nah uh. I am not taking T'Challa down. That is so against every rule there is. If you and the Queen Mother want to cane him, have at it, but keep me out of it," she said, blowing a loose strand of dark hair out of her eyes.
"Come on. You are no fun! I bet Chuck Norris a new computer that you would win."
"What will Bella win?" T'Challa's voice said from behind them. Shuri jumped and swung around before leaping into his arms in an embrace.
"Brother! You've come to play with me! Look, I have some new toys for you to try on!" she said as she showed him the adjustments on his Panther Habit. "I've included an oxygen converter here in case you are forced to go underwater. We don't want another occurrence like the Somali pirate incident."
T'Challa shuddered. "Eeeee! Don't remind me. This looks very good. Your work is amazing, as ever, sister. Now, I came to check on the progress of our visitor. What does the team working on him say of his prognosis?"
"We've had neurologists, psychologists, psychiatrists, shamans, priests, generals, and computer programmers all come through here these past few weeks looking at all possible angles for his reprogramming. Hydra did an excellent job and there is evidence of the damage he underwent every time they wiped his memory clean. It will take time to heal him. The team believes it is possible to heal him, but it is delicate work and may take anywhere from another six months to two years."
"Will he sleep the whole time?"
"Most of it. The initial stages can be performed during his stasis but once his treatment has progressed, we will need to wake him so his mental processes can adapt and grow."
"Very good."
"Tell me, brother, that is not why you came in here. Your face is troubled."
"Aye. Yes. Bella, the General may have need of you on her next mission. It seems we are having trouble in Uganda and South Sudan again."
"And you ask Bella instead of me?" Shuri said, pouting. "What if I cannot spare her? Or, even better, what if I would like to go along."
Both Bella and T'Challa rolled their eyes.
"I'll go find her immediately," Bella said.
"Thank you. And Shuri, Ayo is going to come and keep an eye on you."
"Fine. I'll be on my best behavior," Shuri said with an evil dimpled grin.
"That's what I am concerned about," T'Challa responded. "Play nice. Please remember that Ayo is not bulletproof, waterproof, and knife proof."
Shuri harrumphed and crossed her arms across her chest.
"Fine," she said. "But next mission, I want to come."
Helmut Zemo sat bound in his glass shell, feeling like a caged zoo animal on display for all who passed by. He felt pleased with all he had managed to accomplish, except his slowness to pull the trigger on himself. A suicide would have been a proper, glorious end to his well-laid plans. He would be at peace, reunited with his lost loved ones, and no longer forced to see their faces in his dreams each night.
Everett Ross brought him a cup of water, tripping slightly as he crossed the threshold, and spilling a quarter of the cup on the floor before holding it to his lips to drink. Everett Ross questioned the captive for another fruitless hour before turning to leave, shoulders tensed with frustration.
Zemo heard the door close and closed his own eyes in response, once again forced to contemplate his own misery. Suddenly, his eyes flew open when he heard a voice addressing him in his isolated cell.
He knew that voice. It was her.
His eyes darted around his cell, looking for the source of the voice, until finally slipping onto the puddle of water on the floor. The small splash of water had frozen into a shallow layer of ice. There, a translucent pearl face glowed against the gray metal floor. Eyes so light blue they were nearly white gleamed back at him, tendrils of platinum hair swirled like a swimmer in water around the disembodied face.
"Colonel Zemo," she began.
"My lady," he responded, unsure if he should be relieved or fearful by his new visitor.
"I have been following your progress with much interest. I will say, framing Sergeant Barnes in the bombing and simultaneously orchestrating the death of T'Chaka was a stroke of genius."
"Thank you, my lady."
"However, that is where your genius ended."
"Your highness?"
"If you found it within your power to remove T'Chaka, why did you not think to remove T'Challa as well and clear the path for our next developments? And then, while you managed to flush Sergeant Barnes out of hiding, you did not manage to keep him and instead sent him directly into the worst place he could possibly be. Our goal was to remove their protectors, not provide them with more.
"Finally, you were to discover the additional Winter Soldiers in order to hand them over for my personal use. Instead you kill them. You think you are so clever in inciting the Avengers to fight against themselves. To what end? A blown up airport, one broken spine, and a few bruises and fractured alliances? Not a single death. If you had followed your instructions, the Avengers would have been either obliterated or recruited onto our side. Colonel, you have wasted my time and resources abominably in order to fulfill your own personal vendetta. You will pay for your arrogance and double crossing."
"I have already received my payment in full," he said with a smirk. "There is nothing else left."
"Fool," she said. As she vanished, Zemo watched in horror as first his fingers, then his hands, then his arms turned a burning icy blue. He screamed until his body was engulfed in the spreading frosty contagion. Soon, the blue turned to a dull gray, leaving him entirely petrified in place. He found himself imprisoned within his own body. Still conscious and aware, but completely immobile, his screams no longer made a sound and he could not see the world around him. He had become a living statue.