#I’M ACTUALLY IN TEARS LMFAOOO SORRY QUEEN | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dramaqueeenamby · 7 years ago

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Family Counseling (12)

FAMILY COUNSELING (12)

Family Counseling (12) - Drabble

MASTERLIST

A/N: Saturday update??? I knowwww! This week has been...stressful. I literally fell asleep in the middle of redoing a portion of my thesis last night. Had a family situation that I’m still dealing with along with school continuing to plague my life (btw, I hate groups and trump supporters).

We’re soooo close to shit hitting the fan. I think the next chapter will mark the beginning of the ending arc. I’m legit so excited to start writing that. Introducing a new (or 2?) character in this part because everyone deserves happiness okay.

I apologize for any confusing parts or mistakes. Been working on this on and off all week while watching my husband Chad on SNL (I actually hate potato salad lol), On My Block (PLEASE WATCH IT), and finished it off today whilst listening to Chun Li and Barbie Tings. *shrugs*

No outfit for this one because….yeah, there just isn’t. lmfaooo

Words: 6889

TAGLIST: @onyour-right @hutchj @janellemonaenae @dreamer7black @geminis2ndface @ruminationsofaraven @myrikal324 @groovybbyyy @iamimanim @parris-symone

Her arm was propped up against the pillow as she laid next to him, her fingers drawing nonsensical patterns along the sharp muscles that defined his back, which was toward her. She knew that he wasn't sleeping as she could see the rise and fall of his body. She also knew that he wasn’t in the same position that she was in; that is, his body completely spent from the consecutive, passionate, and exhaustive lovemaking that had consumed the two in the last twenty-four hours.

No, he was simply relishing the moment.

She eventually grew frustrated with the distance between them and scooted over, placing her upper body on top of his, her cheek pressed into the back of his shoulder blade.

She heard his deep chuckle. “Yes?”

“Do not excite yourself, love.” Her eyes shut. “I simply want you near me. Not in me.”

“You say that now, but your sentiments were quite the opposite just-“ He was interrupted by the slight sting of electricity crackling against his back.

“Hmmm?” She mumbled innocently, retracting her hand to his side and smiling when she heard him grunt. “I’m sorry, what were you saying?”

“Nothing, my queen.” He muttered in irritation when he heard it. The sudden strange pattern of her heartbeat. It was just strong, normal, symmetrical, and then it was rapid. He looked over his shoulder. “What is wrong?”

She looked up at him in a daze, startled, and shook her head. “Nothing. I just…I suppose it will take some time.” He felt the pressure being lifted off him as she rolled onto her back as he then turned to hover over her, his hand going to lightly caress her face. “What do I know about being queen?”

“Absolutely nothing.” He answered honestly as she eyed him with incredulity before he laughed softly. “And that matters not because being queen has absolutely nothing to do with the title, my love. It has to do with heart, loyalty, compassion, and I know not one person who has more than any of those qualities than you.”

“You have to say that.” She rolled her eyes and frowned slightly. “You are my husband.” A brief look of astonishment fell over her face.

That did not slip past T’Challa. “What?”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “We’re married.”

He nodded hesitantly. “That is typically what a wedding signifies.”

“No.” She shook her head and grabbed his hand, rubbing it, as it rested on her bare stomach. “I just-I never imagined this could, that this would be us.”

His stomach dropped as he realized what she was saying. “That I would marry you?”

“That you would love me the way that I love you.”

He didn’t know how to respond to that. Actually, he did, but doing so meant that he had to acknowledge how much of an asshole he had been to her and in doing so would mean she would relive all of the shit he’d done to her over the years. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t do anything that could potentially cause her to reevaluate her decision to be with him because he was just that selfish when it came to her, one of the few times in his life that he was selfish.

He couldn’t be without her, even if he didn’t deserve her.

He could apologize though.

“Y/N-“

She leaned up and placed her index finger over his mouth. “Don’t.” She smiled sadly. “I know that you are still unfamiliar with the concept, but honeymoons are supposed to be joyous occasions.”

“But I-“

She forced her lips to his, slow and passionate, before pulling back to whisper. “And we’re doing such a good job with the joyous part so far, no?” He didn’t get a chance to respond as she resumed their tryst, soon pushing on his shoulders so that he was sitting up before she straddled him. “And I hate to ruin such a good thing.” She moaned as she positioned herself and purposely took her time sliding down on his hardened length.

He gripped her hips, forcing himself to maintain composure as she intentionally started a torturously slow pace. “What happened to just being near you?” He forced out, shutting his eyes, the man trying his damn hardest to control the panther within.

She completely stopped her gyrations and shoved him flat on his back, flattening her palms up his chest, all the way to his shoulders. “Are you questioning your queen?”

Whether it was the brewing sexual frustration, the abrupt change in topic, or a combination of both, but something came over T’Challa.

Suddenly, they were both upright, his pulsating member still embedded inside of her, his hand wrapped around her throat applying the slightest of pressure.

“The question, my queen.” He hissed into her ear. “Is are you questioning your king?”

She gave a wry smile, eyes cast up at the ceiling because of the angle he had her head in. “I fear no man.” She then darted her brown orbs in his direction. “Or Panther.”

He froze at that, understanding what she meant. She was giving him permission to let loose.

They’d been intimate plenty of times in the past and with each act, he’d also ensure to hold back as to not hurt her. It only made sense. His abilities capable of leaving her bruised in the event that he lost control in the midst of their passion, which was more likely than not.

He’d already hurt her enough emotionally over the years. He was not willing to risk hurting her physically and was prepared to tell her that when he looked up and saw her eyes were starting to glaze over with white.

He then realized that he hadn’t been the only one holding back.

“T’Challa…”

The need in her voice, the compromising position, it was all too much. With a guttural growl, he switched their positions so that she was on her back and pushed up her legs so that one was wrapped around his waist and the other linked around his shoulder.

Her eyes immediately started to roll into the back of her head, the insatiable and suffocating feeling that accompanied having him fill her to her hilt indescribable. She’d only ever been with him intimately so she had no other man to compare him to, but she had no zero complaints.

Not only was the man well endowed, but he was well versed in that he knew exactly what she liked, just the right spots, the positions that left her crying, screaming, clawing his back raw, and thrashing around like an animal in heat.

No pun intended.

And while T’Challa was a relatively reserved man to everyone else, Y/N saw a different side of him in the bedroom. He was always attentive, caring, sensitive to her wants and needs, yes, but he was an arrogant bastard.

He knew that he was the only man she allowed to bend her over, to fill her up, to take her as he did, and he loved it. He loved hearing her scream his name, the tears that streamed down her face as he brought such unearthly pleasure to her body, the dazed look in her eyes as he stared down in her brown orbs while taking her from behind.

For the most part, he liked to be in control, but there were times that he let her take the reigns, reveling in the feeling of her being on top, guiding her hips as she rode him.

But when she was upset with him, as she often was when they reunited and engaged in initial makeup sex, she teased him, her pace slow and torturous, and there was only so much that he could take before flipping them, once again taking the reigns.

An hour later, the newlywed couple laid a tangled mess in the bed, Y/N completely spent, in a deep sleep while T’Challa simply held her drained body against his as he stared outside the large window of the bedroom.

He’d had never seen a Storm like the one they’d created that night.

Some pun intended.

+++++++++

“It’s just like the palace in here!” Nifa yelled with her hands in the air as she ran through the halls.

Asha seethed internally. “Sister. What did I tell you about running?”

“I am not running.” Nifa turned around and raised her chin in an attempt to signify boldness. “I am jogging.”

“Well, none of that either.” The teenager scolded.

The queen’s school for mutants was finally finished and she allowed an intimate group of individuals to tour it before the council would evaluate the building giving her approval to open it to the general public.

Shuri, who was walking beside a stone-faced D’Kar, looked up at him out the corner of her eye. “What did you think of the training room?”

He glanced at her, forcing her to quickly divert her gaze back to the group ahead of them. He smirked. “Adequate.”

She frowned. “Adequate?”

“Yes.” He looked down at her. “I see no need for such unnecessary, advanced technology when it comes to fighting-“

“Unnecessary?” She repeated while balling her tiny hands into fists. “I will have you know, Jabari, that I designed that unnecessary technology-wait. Advanced?”

His smirk formed into a smug smile. “Yes. From your demonstration, it was clear that your configurations accounted for the wide range of abilities that the children will bring to the table. Quite impressive, unnecessary as fighting should always begin with the body before resorting to manmade gadgets, but nevertheless a testament to your expertise.”

She turned her head, suddenly wishing that he was not so close, that their arms would not occasionally brush against each other as they walked.

“Is everything alright, your highness?” The young man teased, his tone innocent enough, but both of them knowing he knew exactly what he was doing. “You’ve suddenly turned rather reddish in color.”

She snapped her head in his direction to send him a vile glare. “You do realize that I have vibranium gauntlets at my disposal, correct?”

He said nothing and neither did she when she suddenly felt a large, coarse but warm hand encompass hers.

She made no effort to pull away.

Y/N smiled broadly at the interaction only to look up and see a tense husband of hers. She rolled her eyes. “T’Challa.”

“Hmm.” He said while staring at the conjoined hands of his baby sister and the Jabari boy.

His wife, knowing that a pinch would do absolutely nothing given the enhanced density of his skin, decided to take her free hand, place it over his and send a jolt of electricity his way.

“Bast.” He jumped slightly and looked down at her with incredulity. “What?”

“Would you leave them alone?” She complained. “He is a nice boy.”

He looked like she’d insulted him. “What are you talking about?” His voice took on a slightly higher tone, a telltale sign that she was right with her hypothesis. “I never said that he wasn’t.”

“Then why do you keep looking at him as though you want to rip out his jugular vein?” She raised a brow.

He shook his head. “If that were the case, I would have done so at dinner.”

“No, you just interrogated the poor child the whole night.” She knew her husband was protective, but she couldn’t have imagined he’d be so overbearing as he’d been during the gathering between the dinner that saw her family meet with M’Baku’s family. T’Challa had questioned D’Kar on everything from his hobbies to his past relationships and had even taken the boy into his office for a twenty-minute one-on-one that had left even the queen nervous.

Needless to say, Shuri had given her brother an earful the following day.

“Is it wrong to want to ensure that my sister ends up with someone worthy of all that she has to offer?”

“Who do you consider worthy, T’Challa?”

He did not hesitate with his answer. “No one.”

Y/N’s mouth dropped as she shook her head. “It is for that reason our daughter will probably end up running off with some prince from a neighboring nation.”

T’Challa released a small chuckle, his head dropping to his chest before he raised his it and set his gaze straight ahead. “I shall kill him before they make the border.”

“She will never forgive you.”

“Forever is a long time, my love.”

Y/N narrowed her eyes. “And what if I assisted in their escape?”

He looked down at her and smirked before lowering his voice. “There are ways to handle a queen who disobeys her king.”

She chewed on her bottom lip. “Oh?” Walking ahead, a sly grin fell on her face. “I would not know.” Almost immediately, she felt her body being pulled as her back was pressed into his front, his arms wrapping around her, hands planted on her stomach.

She lifted her hand to rub the back of his head as he kissed on her neck and spoke against her skin. “Their heartbeats are so strong….”

“It’s symbolic…..” She mumbled as his large hand moved in a circular motion. “In more than one way.” She craned her head to smile up at him waywardly. “They are most active at the sound of your voice.”

He looked at her, his eyes burning with an unreadable emotion when they fell on the top of her head. “What is this?”

She frowned. “What?” T’Challa grabbed a ringlet of her kinky curls and let it drop in front of her face. She gasped almost immediately.

It was completely white.

“Is it anywhere else?” She started to feel around her head as he examined it.

“No.” He confirmed and then sensed the distress radiating from her. “Relax, love.”

She glared. “Let a piece of your hair turn white, and we shall see how well you adjust.”

He opened his mouth to reply but she pulled away from him and started to widen the distance between them.

He sighed heavily.

“Damn hormones…”

Meanwhile, Erik watched from atop the balcony, waiting for the whole thing to be over. He had a meeting with a rather…nubile handmaiden who was quite gifted with her mouth and hands.

“I must say.” Erik Stevens jumped from shock, the first time in a long time that he of all people had been caught off guard. “They're not completely vomiting inducing. Slightly unbearable. But not intolerable.”

He eyed the cocoa complexioned woman with large

senegalese twists who was also leaning over the balcony, her stance shedding light on a toned and shapely physique.

Still, Erik didn’t like not being in control of situations.

“Who the fuck are you?”

She looked over at him out the corner of her eye and chuckled humorously. “Relax my prince.” She said the last word with a hint of sarcasm, turning around so that her forearms were against the railing, her chest touted against the sky. “Your favorite cousin down there summoned my presence.”

Her answer was loaded. Not only was she the first person he’d met in Wakanda to actually address him as a royal, but she was also the first to match his wit. Though he’d never admit it, Erik was slightly…slightly intrigued.

Especially now that he knew who she was.

He stepped closer, keeping one hand on the railing. “You’re Nareema.” He identified with a tilt of his head. “Y/N’s friend.”

“And here I was saving the best part for last.” She sighed with faux disappointment. “And you’re the long-lost royal who managed to almost fuck the nation up in less than twenty-four hours. I think that’s a record.”

Make that very intrigued.

“Oh love,” Ramonda breathed as the group finally met up at the grand circle of the school. “This place exceeds expectations.”

The queen smiled in satisfaction, T’Challa’s hand wrapped firmly around hers. “Thank you, Ramonda.”

“I think it’s awesome!” Nifa shouted while raising her fists for unnecessary dramatic effect. “I really like the relaxation room!”

“Of course you do,” Asha rolled her eyes. “That’s where most of the toys are.” She looked at the queen and shifted on her heels. “It is rather nice, your highness.”

Y/N smiled softly, grateful for the compliment given she could see that Asha was a special case, untrusting of a lot of people. “Thank you, Asha. And I told you before, I’d much rather you call me by my name.”

The teenager looked shocked and then nodded, offering a small smile.

“That’s nice and all, but can we take a moment to just appreciate my designs?” Shuri interjected, earning a scowl of disapproval from T’Challa.

The queen giggled. “You know that I adore you, sister. My gratitude for your contribution has no end.”

T’Challa noticed that D’Kar was perplexed. “Is there something wrong?”

“Question.” He directed his query to Shuri. “If the tech that you designed is as complex as you say, who will run it?”

“I have assembled a faction of the design team to operate it.” She shrugged.

“But won’t you still need someone to oversee it, princess?” Okoye spoke out, breaking her silence.

Shuri opened her mouth and then stopped. “I suppose I hadn’t thought of that.” She sent an apologetic look toward her sister-in-law. “Between the outreach center and overseeing the tech here, I do not think I can handle any more duties sister.”

“Do not trouble yourself, Shuri.” Y/N smiled softly. “I already have a director.”

“You do?” Both the Udaku siblings spoke at the same time.

“Yes.” She rolled her eyes. “Erik.”

The young man who’d been leaning against a pillar who’d been uncharacteristically up until that point finally spoke. “What?”

“Yes, what?” Shuri reiterated.

Y/N sighed and dropped her husband’s hand, moving to the middle of the circle so that she was closing closer to him. “You are brilliant, Erik. We all know it. You have the credentials and I know that if you don’t already know how to operate the designs, it won’t take you long to figure it out.”

“What makes you so sure of that, your highness?” He chuckled darkly.

“Because the same blood that runs through them,” she pointed back to Shuri and T’Challa. “Runs through you.” She saw the briefest flash of an undetectable emotion go through his brown eyes. “I need someone that I can trust to hold this position Erik, and I trust you.”

“Do I get a say in this?” Shuri spoke out and Y/N turned around to see that she was more sarcastic than she was upset.

“You do,” she nodded and then discreetly gestured to Nifa who was playing with Asha’s hair. “But, my dear sister, would you really cause a spectacle in front of a child? Or even worst, argue with a pregnant woman?”

D’Kar smiled and dropped his head, causing Shuri to elbow him in his side before she conceded. “I suppose Erik is the only other option.” A beat. “Unfortunately.”

“Appreciate the support, princess.” Erik shot her a wink before rolling his eyes. “But ya’ll really think the council is about to okay this sh-crap?” He caught himself when Ramonda sent him a look.

“This is not the council’s decision to make. It is mine.” Y/N stated firmly.

“Yes.” T’Challa supplied, walking up and placing his hand on the small of Y/N’s back. “And should they have any other unnecessary or unwarranted opinions, we shall see to it that they understand when and where their authorization is needed.”

“Wow.” All eyes turned to the sound of the new voice. “A lot has changed since my…..leave of absence.”

Okoye and Y/N stared in shock.

“Nareema?”

“In the flesh?” She pushed her body off the wall and stepped. “Oh, almost forgot.” She managed a sloppy bow.

“My queen.”

Y/N gave a watery laugh and pulled the woman in for a hug. “I’ve missed you.”

Nareema held her tight before they pulled away. “Indeed you have.” She looked down at her stomach. “So much so that you’ve succumbed to spending your time getting di-“

“Nareema!” Y/N scolded with a blush. “Still the same.”

The other woman frowned. “Is that a problem?” They then giggled as if they’d shared a secret joke.

“Nareema.”

The two broke away as the outspoken woman looked at the general with a bored expression. “General.”

“It is good to see you.” Okoye kept her poised expression. “You look well.”

“And you look the same.” Nareema quipped. “Courtesy of being a Dora, eh? One size fits all?”

There was a tense second of silence before the two women laughed, shared a warm embrace, and Okoye spoke in Xhosa.

“Welcome home, little sister.”

+++++++++

“Ramonda did all of this?” Nareema stared around the elaborate and expansive black and silver nursery that would soon belong to the prince and princess of Wakanda. “For Bast sake, it is beautiful!”

“Isn’t it?” Y/N blushed as she held her back to support the weight of her growing belly. “T’Challa and I practically did nothing except approve a few things here and there. She took care of everything for us.”

“Well,” Nareema stopped and wiggled her eyebrows. “I suppose you two were preoccupied with other things.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Why did you not tell me you were coming?”

“And ruin the surprise?” She placed her hand on her hip and tilted her head. “Twenty plus years of friendship and you still don’t know me?” She faked a sad sigh. “I am hurt. Truly.”

Y/N approached and grabbed her hands. “Promise that you will stay until the twins are born.”

Nareema squeezed their gathered hands ever so lightly and smirked. “What took you so long to ask?”

Y/N dropped her head and smiled warmly. “It is good to have you home, Nareema.”

The woman narrowed her eyes slightly and commented innocently. “There was once a time you would not even refer to this place as your home.”

“Much has changed, Reema’.”

“Indeed it has,” she gestured down to her stomach, before gently placing her hand down on it. “Twins….are you nervous?”

“The truth?” A beat. “Terrified.”

Nareema pulled her hand back, rolled her eyes, and dragged her friend over to a nearby couch. She watched with humor as Y/N had to take a few extra seconds to sit down, her stomach making a once simple task a slightly difficult endeavor.

Once she was situated, Nareema started to Q and A.

“For what? If anyone was put on this earth to be a mother, it was you.” A beat. “You’re actually nice.”

Y/N laughed softly. “While I appreciate that, it takes more than kindness to be a good mother, Nareema.”

“You’re right, it takes heart, patience, forgiveness, and basically everything that I am not, which you are so, ergo, a good mother,” Nareema said as if it was the most obvious thing ever, shifting her shoulders and rolling her eyes. “Great Bast, you always were hard of hearing.”

“And you never were good with encouragement,” Y/N teased.

“Hence why you went into counseling and I went into criminology,” Nareema shrugged before growing serious. “How is Nakia handling your pregnancy?”

Y/N mouth formed into a straight line. “As well as can be expected.”

Nareema exhaled in frustration. “So, in other words, you continue to let her disrespect you and your position-“

“Nareema-“

“No, I understood your initial explanation.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows. “Really?”

“Absolutely not. I just said that to appease you.” The pregnant woman rolled her eyes. “But the fact of the matter is that Nakia never did and still does not want to be queen; she just does not want you to be queen or to have T’Challa, who she also wants.” A beat. “And if she truly loved him and if he truly loved her, they would not have spent years with that stupid on and off relationship of theirs.” She rolled her eyes. “Although I suppose it served as a nice cover.”

Y/N frowned. “Cover for what?”

Nareema laughed softly. “You.” When Y/N didn’t say anything, she moaned. “Oh, come now. Surely you’ve realized it by now.”

“Realized what?”

“It’s always been you. Well, perhaps not always, but for some time. Longer than I realized, at least…” She trailed off.

Y/N stared at her childhood friend with incredulity. “Reema’ what are you-“ She watched as the other woman grabbed her hand and raised it, shaking it lightly while pointing to her wedding ring, the large diamond reflecting from the sun emanating from the large window opposite the other side of the room. “I don’t understand.”

“Y/N, have you never noticed the absence of a ring on Ramonda’s hand? From any married woman in Wakanda? Wakandans do not believe in wedding rings.”

The expecting mother frowned. She certainly hadn’t, something like that being rather trivial in terms of things she paid attention to. Yet, she failed to see the relevancy.

“Okay…”

Nareema pinched the bridge of her nose. “You told me that T’Challa gave you your ring the morning after he proposed. That when you woke up, it was on your finger, yes?”

It was true. That night he asked her to marry him, they’d stayed up for some time, not engaging in intercourse, but instead just talking, enjoying each other’s company. At some point, she’d fallen asleep, and when she woke up, the gorgeous promise of commitment was on her ring finger.

“That ring was not for Nakia. He would never give her one because it is not the Wakandan way. It was for you, and I highly doubt he had a ring of that magnitude, that quality, and that luxury made in just a few hours. He’d had it for some time, Y/N.”

The queen stared off at the wall, in a state of shock from the load of information. Was it true? Had T’Challa had the ring for a while? It had to be true? Her friend for over twenty years had no reason to lie and Nakia had no need for a token that commemorated a foreign ritual. T’Challa most certainly had gotten the ring specifically for her, but when and how long had he had it? Marriage was a nothing to be taken lightly and something the two of them had never talked about and now she was leaning that he’d been harboring a damn wedding ring for an undisclosed amount of time.

If he wanted to marry her, did that mean he chose her? If so, then when? And why had he not told her?

“If he wanted to marry me, why did he not say so? Why not ask me?” She voiced her thoughts.

Nareema shrugged and then joked nonchalantly. “Perhaps he truly went the American route and asked your father who refused to give his blessing.”

Y/N’s head shot up. “What?”

Nareema elaborated. “Aside from the few of us with inside knowledge of the information to everyone on the outside, T’Challa was always destined to be with Nakia. The breakups were just temporary. She was going to be his queen. Hodari did not know of your and T’s….situation. Maybe your father thought that he was protecting you.” A beat. “Or Bast, maybe King T’Chaka was not tying to have the arrangement made at birth ruined by some mutant girl just like he would not have Okoyo’s mutant sister ruin his precious Dora Milaje.” She finished with a bitter chuckle.

Y/N, being the empathetic person that she was, immediately thought back to the first time she saw her childhood female best friend cry. No one knew of the unspoken ban that existed on mutants joining the Dora Milaje. That is, until Nareema voiced her desire to follow in Okoye’s footsteps and was informed by their parents.

She was crushed, never really the same after that.

“But whatever the reason, it matters not anymore.” Nareema reached over and lightly squeezed Y/N’s shoulders, realizing that the young queen was starting to reflect on the hypothetical scenarios she’d just proposed. “What’s done is done. You have T’Challa’s heart, you have the kingdom, and pretty soon, you will have children.” A beat. “Coming out of your vagina.”

“Nareema!”

+++++++++

Erik and T’Challa were in his office when all of a sudden Nareema came barging in. Except, she came through the double doors.

Literally through the doors.

“You better have a damn good reason as to why I had to just play a sick mind game with my best friend.” Was the first thing she said while staring down at an unphased T’Challa while Erik stared at her in amazement, unaware of the fact that she was a mutant. “You already having had the ring, okay? I can live with that because it’s true, but the reasons that I just had to feed her. I’ve never lied to her and because of you, I just did, so you better start talking Udaku!”

“Did you just-”

“I have the gift of intangibility.” She spoke without looking at him, eyes still burning on the king. “Answer me!”

Erik looked back and forth as she spoke to his cousin without an ounce of regard for the fact that he was her king.

“I like her.” He smirked, sitting on the edge of T’Challa’s desk with his arms crossed.

T’Challa gave his cousin an expression of annoyance before leaning back in his chair and sighing heavily. “I need to start planting the idea that Hodari nor my father…..they….”

“One ain’t worth shit, and the other wouldn’t be shit either, but he already dead so.” Erik shrugged casually.

Nareema groaned. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Hodari has been working Princess Zanda in hopes to develop a cure for…mutants.” T’Challa hesitated with the last part for obvious reasons.

Nareema visibly tensed. “What?”

“Come on cuz, don’t leave out the best part.” Erik smiled broadly, playing with a set of Kimoyo beads. “Shit goes as far back as twenty years. As part of a mission started by my dear old Uncle T’Chaka.” Erik threw a set in the air, catching it easily. “Guess all that shit about wanting to keep Wakanda closed to the outside world had some stipulations, huh?”

“A cure?” Nareema hissed, her hand balled into a fist. “Of course.” She shook her head and then narrowed her eyes at T’Challa. “So you father was secretly cooperating with outside entities while parading around as though he was too good to allow Wakanda to associate itself with anyone else?”

T’Challa sighed. “My father was not a perfect man.”

“What gave it away?” Erik questioned with a raise of his brow. “Murdering his own brother? Or trying to cleanse his country of mutants?”

T’Challa stood from his desk and planted his palms down firmly. “We do not know for sure those were his intentions.”

“Do not be daft, T’Challa.” Nareema sneered. “Why else would he be willing to work with Narobia of all places? While their technological capabilities do not even come close to matching ours, they are far more advanced than any other country.” When the king said nothing else, she spoke again. “Where is Hodari now?”

“On a mission in the states,” Erik answered as she turned to look at him. “We’ve been monitoring his calls.”

“Why?” She frowned. “If he is working with Zanda on a cure, should you not be trying to trace where this cure is being manufactured?”

“That has been taken care of,” T’Challa answered vaguely.

Nareema narrowed her eyes. “How?” Erik mimicked an explosion with his hands which only further confused Okoye’s sister. “You two make no sense.”

T’Challa finally realized that feeding the woman who he called in as a way to help take his wife’s mind off everything that was going on (that is, the stuff she that she knew was going on) meant he would have to share more than just bits and pieces.

She needed the full story.

And so, he proceeded to tell her everything.

Starting with the discovery that Y/N was directly targeted while in California all the way to the latest information he and Erik had uncovered only hours ago.

Nareema was floored.

“This is insane.” She breathed. “What in Bast sake is really going on? Why is Hodari now so concerned with a cure? And how does a man go from wanting permanent annihilation-“

“He was just following orders.” Erik chuckled darkly.

“I was not referring to him.” Nareema interrupted, her eyes set on T’Challa as an uncomfortable blanket of silence fell over the room. “I always felt as though your father never truly liked mutants what with the ban on them not being allowed to join the Dora Milaje, but this…this is beyond comprehension.”

“Forreal?” Erik interrupted as Nareema gave him her attention.

“Apparently we have an advantage over everyone else.” She spoke with pure sarcasm. “At least, that was the excuse then…”

“Regardless, she has a point.” Erik resumed the previous topic at hand. “And while I enjoy any conversation that includes pointing out what a weak ass leader my good old uncle really was, the real question is why Hodari is suddenly so interested in getting his hands on a cure.”

T’Challa forced himself to ignore the snide comment about his late father. After all, he was experiencing his own mixed feelings about the man… “Are we sure that there has been no paper trail between him and Zanda or any other Narobian official over the years?”

Erik shook his head. “Nothing. And if I can’t find it, shit must not exist.”

“What about that other company you mentioned?” Nareema chimed. “Sublime?”

“Filed for bankruptcy the same year the file for this mission was marked as completed,” Erik responded.

“Let me see that,” Nareema asked as Erik pulled up the interactive file as the two cousins watched the woman inspect it closely. “Interesting.”

“What?”

She looked at her best friend’s husband. “This company filed exactly one week after Y/N’s mother was murdered.” She then started searching for a few things. “And the CEO? A man by the name of Charles Lobe? Also went missing the same day.” A beat. “They never found his body.”

“As the filing of the bankruptcy?”

Erik asked while walking up behind her.

“No.” She looked up at him over her shoulder. “As the murder.”

T’Challa frowned and rubbed his temples. He was never one to believe in such an abstract concept as coincidences.

“The company that was manufacturing a serum that could kill mutants suddenly goes under, the CEO disappears without a trace, and Y/N’s mother is murdered.”

“In my tactical unit, we never left behind anything or anyone that could link us back to the mission.” He muttered while rubbing his beard. “Destruction links them all together, but that’s not enough, there was always a purpose and a reason. A stronger connection. A better linkage.”

“Her mother….what did she do for a living?” Erik asked no one in particular.

“She was a teacher,” T’Challa answered quickly. “Elementary school teacher.”

“And how exactly was she killed? I know the method, but what were details on the events leading up to it?”

“No one knows.” Nareema sighed. “She….she’s never spoken about it. It’s too painful for her.”

It was true. Not even T’Challa knew all the details of that day, but he suddenly thought of someone who did and a dark idea crossed his mind, one he never thought he’d resort to, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Instead, he decided to point out and share something else.

“Her mother…she was a mutant too.” The other two gave him surprised expressions. “We recently learned via genetic tests that there is a strong possibility the twins maternal grandmother was an empath.”

All of a sudden, Erik started to laugh, but his voice was void of humor. “Son of a bitch.”

“What?” Nareema looked over at him.”

“I told you. We never left anything behind.” He started messing around with the mission report. “Something went wrong. It must have.. Why else would the records here be clean of any trace of what happened? Think about it: the company, her mother, the CEO. They all had to be eliminated.”

“That makes no sense.” Nareema shook her head. “Are you saying that her mother was in on it?”

“I believe that she unwittingly became apart of it. Consider the historical context of the time period, mutants were in the same position that they’re still in now. Judged and criticized. But for her, if she really was an empath, she had it easier than some of the others.”

“You believe that she hid her abilities?” T’Challa was starting to follow along. “From the world and Hodari.”

“Makes sense.” Erik shrugged.

Nareema too began to follow their train of thought. “And it was already bad enough he diverted from the mission by developing feelings for an outsider, but he impregnated her.” A beat. “But he still left her?”

“I think you got this one, cuz.” Erik gestured to T’Challa who sent him a sharp look indicating that he was in no mood for games. Erik, of course, remained unbothered.

“Pull up his missions for the year that her mother was killed again,” T’Challa instructed as he scanned them, his eyes latching onto something. “What is this?”

Erik noticed too. “It’s the same mission. Twice.”

Nareema frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“No, it does not.” T’Challa quietly agreed. “Because it is a decoy.” A beat. “A mirage to disguise his true location.”

“Let me try something.” Nareema and T’Challa waited as Erik proceeded to try and toy with the advanced technological systems, bypassing firewalls before he was finally able to hack in. “There we go.”

“Virginia….” Nareema trailed off as she looked at the two men. “Isn’t that where Y/N and her mother were living?”

“Yes.” T’Challa answered solemnly. “And it is also where she was struck down.”

“Why would he suddenly go visit her?”

“Wait.” Nareema exclaimed. “Y/N once told me how when she was younger that the only time she truly saw her mother get upset was when she went to go draw blood.”

“I recall that story.” T’Challa chimed. “For some reason, they would not allow her to because she did not pass…the screening.”

“Where was Sublime’s headquarters?” Erik pulled up another screen, did some typing, and swirled the projection so that they could see. “Virginia. And they also had a pharmaceutical company.”

“What’s that?” Nareema pointed as a message popped up on the screen.

“This is all archive data so it must be a leftover piece of correspondence from that day that didn’t get completely erased from the mainframe,” Erik answered and clicked around as a black screen popped up.

Start Encrypted Message

BACK PAGE

USER4958058

Tests came back negative, sir.

What are our orders?

USER93085041

Eliminate them.

USER4958058

….Even the child?

USER93085041

I said them.

USER4958058

It will be done.

End Encrypted Message

CLOSE BACK PAGE

Nareema gasped as she slowly stepped back. “Oh my…can you trace who these are between?”

“I ain’t gotta.” Erik answered lowly. “The person whose profile you’re under will always have their username enlarged.”

Nareema’s eyes widened. “No.”

T’Challa snatched for his Kimoyo beads and angrily pressed against the technology.

He answered on the second ring. “Your Highness.”

“Gather the men. I want you at the landing station in an hour.”

The White Wolf darkened his gaze. “What is the mission, sir?”

“Hodari.” T’Challa closed his eyes as he tried to calm his growing rage. “Bring him to me, I don’t care what condition he is in, just as long as he is alive.”

“It will be handled.”

The king disconnected the call.

“What are you going to do?” Nareema questioned hesitantly, cautious of her tone as she could see T’Challa was in no mood for her usual disrespect.

He was literally seething, the anger and ire radiating off his powerful form. “You cannot just arrest her father. It will crush her.”

“The less you know the better.” He said simply, his tone indicating he had nothing more to say on the subject. “I thank you for your assistance.” He looked over at Erik and motioned for the door. “Come.”

Erik hopped off the desk and the two men went to leave when Nareema appeared in front of them. “Wait. Please. I know that look. Just….let us think this through.”

“I have grown tired of waiting, Nareema.” T’Challa looked down at her, a certain gleam of wickedness in his eyes. “I want answers, and I will get them.” A beat. “No matter what it takes.” With that, the king and prince moved to either side of her, leaving the disturbed young woman to her conflicted thoughts.

On one hand, she wondered if she should go after them. She knew that look. The look of a man on the edge, a man who would do anything for the ones that he loved, and it didn’t help that he was being aided by that cousin of his who, much like her, did not necessarily know when to stop.

On the other hand, there was the part of her that somewhat wanted to even assist them. The part that hurt for her best friend who had no idea the heartache that was in store for her. The part that had no idea how she was going to continue to sit and dine and act like nothing had changed between her and her childhood friend when in fact everything had changed.

How she could sit in the face of a woman who’d spent over twenty years being reared by a man who she thought to be a loving and doting father.

Instead, that loving and doting father was the man who signed her and her mother’s death certificate.

And suddenly, Nareema wondered if she should have even returned to Wakanda at all.

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