Trying to roll onto your side sent a shock wave through your chest that would have made you scream if you had the strength. Trying to sit up wasn't much better, and as much as you wanted to call out for help, your breaths were far too shallow to get any power behind them.

You looked at the shield lying at your side and knew that if nothing else, Steve would have to be looking for it, and would in turn, find you. Of course he didn't mean to strike you down with it; just as he released with perfect aim at a true assailant, he was hit from behind and the trajectory shifted, flying through nearby brush to hit you during your own fight on the other side of it. He probably hadn't even yet realized what had happened, being occupied with his own fight. The only fight you were engaged in now was the fight to stay alive, but you were also a sitting duck if anyone wanted to finish you off.

"It has to be here somewhere," you finally heard Steve say, much to your relief that he was finally about to find you. "I think though these...bushes..." he faded upon seeing you lying on the ground next to his shield, and he immediately began to panic. "Oh, no, no...(Y/N)...did I hit you? Can you move?"

"No..." you gasped quietly, "...and breathing...isn't the best...either..."

"Okay, just stay quiet, I'll get you out of here." He knelt at your side, grabbing the shield and slinging it onto his back before sliding his hands slowly beneath you. "I'll try to be careful, I promise." When he made his first motion to lift you, you gasped aloud in pain and gripped his arm tightly, scaring him enough to set you back down.

He searched rapidly through each section of his belt, desperate to find a shot of pain reliever but finding nothing; only then did he remember that he had used it the week before on Sam and neglected to refill it. "God, I'm an idiot," he mumbled to himself before calling out to the rest of the team. "Guys, (Y/N)'s down, and I need help getting her back to the jet. Anyone carrying a hypo? I'm out."

"I can see you," T'Challa responded immediately, "I'm on my way."

"Just pick me up...Steve," you panted with shallow winces of pain, "don't let him see me..."

"Too late," he replied quietly, tilting his head to the side as the king joined him. Natasha had joined now too and moved quickly to give you the injection that would at least take the sharp edge of pain away so they could get you to the safety of the jet. Once your lids grew heavy, Steve again made the effort to move you, but he was halted by his newest teammate.

"We're only several hundred miles from Wakanda. I will take her to our hospital there."

"We can get her home," Steve declined. "Banner can monitor her on the flight back. Thank you, your highness, but we can take care of her."

"Yes, I see how well you take care of her," he snapped in reply, leaning down and picking you up into his arms with ease. "I will return her to her home once she is healed and willing to return. Not a moment before. You may leave now, Captain."

~~~

The next time your eyes opened, the surroundings were completely different, and it took a moment to orient yourself to where you were, though even when you were fully cognizant, you had no idea. The lights of the room were dim and soft, with a gentle hum and a few rhythmic beeps from a machine next to you. You looked down and saw that you were in a bed with linens far too elegant to be hospital issue, with a mattress so soft that you thought you would sink through to the other side if you moved too much.

You still had pain when you shifted your weight, but now a bandage was wrapped firmly around your chest, giving you enough stability to be able to breathe much easier. The smallest groan escaped your lips when you pushed yourself up to sit; it was all it took for a nurse to enter with the offer of pain medications to help you, or anything else at all that you might require.

"Thanks, but I'm okay," you replied with a weak smile, holding your breath as you shifted again. "But could you tell me where I am, please?"

"You're in Wakanda," she answered, turning away to check your vital signs on the monitor. "King T'Challa brought you to our hospital several hours ago, but when you were cleared of any life-threatening injuries, he felt that you would be more comfortable here."

"And where is here...exactly?"

"The royal palace, of course. This will be your quarters until the time when you return home."

"Oh, crap," you murmured, looking around desperate to find your phone or any way at all to get ahold of Steve. "Do you happen to know where my phone is?"

"Who is it that you would like to call?" T'Challa asked quietly from a corner on the far side of your room, standing now from the shadows to make himself visible. As he stepped closer to you, you could feel your heart rate begin to race, worsening when you realized that he could see it on the monitor at your side. "Do I make you nervous?"

"Not exactly. I'm just...not sure of how I got here," you lied, "it's a bit fuzzy."

"Hmm," he murmured as he considered your words, still taking steps closer. When he was at the end of your bed, he motioned for the nurse to leave the two of you alone, then taking her place at your side. "Let's test a hypothesis, shall we?" he whispered to himself, reaching down to take your hand in his. Knowing exactly what to expect, he looked up at the monitor to watch each heart beat clip by faster and faster the longer he held on.

"I'm not nervous."

"Clearly."

"Okay," you finally snapped, yanking your hand away, "it's not that I don't appreciate all of this," you paused, waving your hand towards the rest of the room, "but I don't understand why you thought I needed to come here when I could have just gone home with the rest of the team. Bruce was there and could have made sure that I was alright."

"I didn't feel comfortable leaving you in their care when it was their own recklessness that injured you to begin with."

"Why do you care?" you scoffed, but once the words were out, you realized that your tone was harsher than you had meant for it to be. You didn't want to sound ungrateful, but that's exactly what you had just done. "I'm sorry, that came out wrong."

"I care because you are worth caring about. There needs to be no other reason."

"And that includes sitting in a dark corner of the room watching me while I sleep?"

"There's a peaceful beauty about you when you sleep," he said, as if it were a completely obvious statement, as if you should have known the answer before he would have to utter a word. "There's a beauty about you when you're awake too, don't misunderstand..."

It may have been the wide eyes of shock that stopped him from saying any more, or it could have been the color draining from your face, but either way, he took your hand again and sat on the edge of the bed as he watched you with concern. "(Y/N), are you alright? Tell me what's going on."

"You...you must be...you must be mistaken," you stammered, "you can't mean that."

"You're not used to accepting compliments, are you?"

"No," you exhaled heavily, still staring at him. "No, it's not that. I'm not used to...getting them."

You finally broke your stare at him and looked down at your hands, fixated on the sight of his fingers wrapped tightly around yours; so much so that if you tried to pull away again, you wouldn't succeed. "You're the king," you whispered, your voice beginning to fail.

"I'm aware, yes."

"There's no way that you could find me...beautiful."

"(Y/N), tell me," he began, "how does my standing as king mean anything in relation to who or what I find desirable? Do you think that I'm so shallow as to let my political stature affect my personal life and who I would choose to spend time with?"

"Of course not, it's not that." You pushed back into the bed again to sit up straighter, but a grimace in your expression as you moved had him stand to get help. With a small raise of your hand, he stopped, sitting back down hesitantly when you didn't release his hand. "T'Challa, you could have anyone in the world. Anyone. I'm nothing special, believe me. Whatever beauty you think that you see, I'm sure it has something to do with the lighting in here casting a weird shadow, or maybe your eyes are just tired, but no matter what it is, you're mistaken."

"We shall agree to disagree then," T'Challa relented with a skeptical eye on you. He stood slowly, still holding your hand as he considered his next move. He had a new challenge now, to get you to see yourself as he did, and as much as he loved challenges, this one actually gave him a bit of worry that he might actually fail. "We begin tomorrow," he finally spoke again, bringing your hand to his lips. "But now, it's late and you should rest."

He released you and walked to the large closet on the far end of the room next to where he had been sitting, shifting a few belongings within it until he re-emerged and approached you with your phone in hand, setting it on the table next to you. "Feel free to call the Captain, (Y/N). It's your own will that keeps you here, but I do hope that you stay a while longer. Sleep well."

"Thank you," you could barely whisper, watching him leave and shutting the door behind him. You looked to your phone several times but never made a move to take it, though the thought of calling home never left your mind. Whatever T'Challa had planned for you had your curiosity piqued, but also had your nerves raging. Rather than letting it take over your mind any further, you put the phone into the drawer and settled in to sleep, hoping that whatever tomorrow would bring, it would get him to see the same truth that you did.