A/N: Spoiler Alert! This story was inspired by Captain America: Civil War.

Many thanks to CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur for the Beta. Thanks also to winter-Soldier-88 for brainstorming assistance.

Namaste,

Sunny

Captain America

Civil War

I Still Believe

Visions in My Head

The Maple Street Diner

Early Morning

Vancouver, B.C.

A hand grabbed Taylor before he hit the water, and suddenly, he found himself once again sitting across from Layia. She had hold of the wrist gripping the fork like a lifeline. Their eyes met, and she slowly released him. He set the fork on the edge of his plate, picked up the hot chocolate, and drank it down, making a face because it was lukewarm. Layia's brown eyes were filled with concern, though not fear as he thought they might. "What happened?"

"Not sure. You stared into space for a while, complained about being cold, and yelled that you were falling." The servers watching them with distrust from behind the counter. "Creeped out the staff. And me a little."

The vision of being on the icy cliff came back to Taylor, and he shivered involuntarily. "I am sorry. Could I get more hot chocolate, please?"

She slid out of the booth. "I'll get it, and the check." A few minutes later, Layia returned with a carafe, a can of whipped cream, two large insulated to-go cups, and no check. She poured for both of them, added the whipped cream, and pushed his across the table. "There's no charge for the food. They didn't say anything, but I don't think they want us to come back."

Taylor sipped his drink and set it in the saucer. "I'm too embarrassed to come back. They will always look at me strangely, all because of the seizures that cannot be controlled."

Layia's slender fingers wrapped around his palm, squeezing lightly. "That's not your fault, Tay. Still, there are many people out there who are afraid of what they don't understand."

He took another sip, using the time to check out the staff. They'd moved on to other patrons, while still casting the occasional glance over their shoulders. He was sure the manager would've asked them to leave, but with all the negative publicity in social media recently, they didn't dare. Taylor filled the to-go cups with the leftover hot chocolate. Layia squirted whipped cream into both, and they put the lids on.

Reaching into his back pocket, Taylor brought out his wallet, tossed enough cash on the table to cover their bill plus a generous tip, and stood. The wallet went back into his pocket as Layia came up next to him. He took her coat, and helped her on with it. Without giving anyone the satisfaction of complaining, the pair left the diner, got in Layia's car, and drove away. At the light, he said, "Too bad we have to find another place to eat. I liked their food."

A small huff came from Layia. "Meh. Mine was okay. Nothing to write home about."

They looked at each other and laughed. Taylor relaxed at the sound of her laughter. "You could have dinner with us tonight, before we study. Mother and Father are both excellent cooks, and I am fair." A thought occurred to him. "I should let them know we will have company tonight so they will be prepared." He took out his phone and sent a text to his parents.

A friend is coming to help me study tonight, and will be joining us for dinner.

Julia and Adam responded within seconds, making him smile. "They are anxious to meet you."

Layia pulled her glasses down to look at him over the top with a generous helping of reproach. "You didn't tell them I'm a girl, did you?"

Having regained his humor, Taylor put the phone away, ignoring the additional texts wanting details. "It will be our little secret. At least until you arrive."

"You're sure they'll like me?"

He sipped his drink, and set it in the cup holder. "You are quite likeable, so of course they will." Layia looked pleased with herself. "What would your family think of me?"

"The answer to that is like opening a can of worms that can fly. With Muslims, it's The Big Question. Can guys and girls be just friends? It's a debate that's been explored throughout all of history, and not just with Muslims. There are books, songs, poetry and numerous romantic comedies and dramas on the subject. In our case, religion is a part of the mix simply because I'm Muslim, and that leads to dangerous territory. You see, the Quran commands men to reform themselves first and exclusively, killing the rape culture. Basically, it means that men shouldn't look at women simply because they wear revealing clothing. The opposite of Western culture where it's all on the woman to prevent rape by dressing modestly, which has nothing to do with a crime that's about power and control, not sex."

Thinking over what she said, Taylor came to the same conclusion. "For your culture, it's the man's job to prevent rape, and nearly every other culture it's the woman's. I believe the responsibility should be equal among the genders, without regard to religion or culture. Because a woman wears a tiny bathing suit or other revealing clothing does not mean she is, I believe the term is 'asking for it'. I often find myself staring at such women, and that is my fault, not theirs. The choice of clothing is the woman's and always will be. I choose to allow myself to be distracted by it, or not. Either way, I do not believe women want to be assaulted. Why would they wish that upon themselves?"

"Then there's the victim shaming when the man chose to commit the crime. The clothing the woman wears is irrelevant."

Taylor shifted in his seat. Not out of discomfort for the subject. He brought it up, after all. "Unfortunately, there is a reason it is still called a 'man's world'. Not a good one, but a reason."

Layia pulled to the curb and put the car in park. "Are you sure you're not Muslim?"

Did he want to reveal his true past to someone he'd only known a few weeks? Taylor was certain as he could be that she was trustworthy and would not share this secret. "You cannot tell anyone what I am about to reveal."

"I won't. Promise."

"The truth is I do not know where I am from. Not the culture or what religion I subscribed to in the past, if any. I pray with the family because it makes them happy, not due to any specific belief system." Taylor looked out the window, watching the breeze move the bare branches of the trees. "I was found unconscious in a park in Bucharest less than a year ago and taken to hospital for treatment. Afterward, because I had no memory of my identity or my past, the doctors sent me to a mental health facility where I was observed and evaluated by one of the staff psychologists. She determined that I was not a threat to society or to myself, and I was released. Because I had nowhere to go, Dr. Julia Clancy, the psychologist who evaluated me, and her husband, Adam took me in."

He glanced at Layia, gauging her reaction, seeing only curiosity. "Because I didn't know my name, I chose to be called Taylor. Julia and Adam gave me their last name, and when the family returned to British Columbia, they asked me to join them." He saw movement in the corner of his eye, and a moment later, Layia took hold of his hand where it lay on the consol between them. "Adam's position gave him access to those who are able to create documentation stating that I was adopted by the Clancy family."

The silence stretched longer than Taylor would've liked until Layia squeezed his hand again and let go. "It can't be easy for you, not knowing where you're from or who you really are."

"It is something I have had to come to terms with. That and not knowing how I acquired my special talent." Layia watched him, as if making a decision about the information he'd given her.

"One question." A humorous glint came into her eyes. "I can make portals, and you can run really fast. Why does either of us need a car to get to work?"

That wasn't what Taylor thought she would ask. "Camouflage?" He unbuckled the seatbelt and opened the door. "I will go home from here. Work begins at eleven tonight. Is seven good?"

"Perfect. Just need the address."

Taylor got out, and closed the door, sent her a text, and waved good-bye. After she turned the corner, he took off, arriving at home within moments. It was late enough that everyone but Julia was gone.

She came down the stairs as he was taking off his jacket and hanging it in the closet. "Morning. So, company for dinner. I'm glad to see you making friends outside the family."

He handed over her coat, and closed the closet. "Before you go, could we talk?"

"Sure. What's wrong?"

"My friend and I had breakfast, and while we were eating…"

Julia set her briefcase, purse and coat on the sofa, drawing him over to sit beside her. "You had another seizure."

Though he was hesitant, Taylor needed someone to confide in, and whether in her role as psychologist or mother, he'd always been able to tell her anything. "This time, it was different. More like a vision. As if I were seeing the world through another's eyes."

"What did you see in this vision?"

Taylor rubbed his arms through the material of his shirt. "I was standing on a high cliff with rocks and water far below. It was very cold, frigid, and desolate. No other people around that I could see. I heard a door slam, and when I turned around, there was a metal structure nearly covered in snow and ice. To the right of the door, there was a panel that I believe held the controls. Though I did not venture inside, the feeling was that the majority of this place lay underground, and that it was immense. Then, I heard my name on the wind. Within the ice and snow, I saw the form of a woman with long hair. She grabbed my arm, pulling me toward the precipice." He shivered at the memory. "I returned to myself, still sitting in the diner with my friend."

"Did you recognize the woman's face? Could she have been a memory from the years before we met?"

He raised his hands and slapped his thighs. "Her features caused no sensation of familiarity, and she called me Taylor. If she is someone I knew before, would she not have used the name given to me by my parents?"

"You'd think so. The brain is a complex organ. It often plays tricks on us. We think we see one thing when it's really something quite different. In dreams, it uses metaphors and surreal images to take the place of more familiar objects, people and places, or substitutes concepts and facsimiles picked up by our subconscious in place of known values."

Taylor stood and helped Julia into her coat. "Then my subconscious has a strange sense of humor." He followed her to the door with her briefcase, purse and keys. "Go shrink some minds. I will prepare dinner and put it in the slow cooker before bed so that it will be nearly ready when you get home."

Julia reached up to kiss his cheek. "We're so lucky we found you."

"I am the lucky one. If you had not taken me in, I would literally be alone in this world." He closed the door, and rushed through his morning chores, unable to banish the dreamlike images from his mind. When he finally lay down, he stared at the ceiling for a long time before allowing sleep to take over.

Wakanda

Location Unknown

Mid-Afternoon

The man quickly applied the traditional face paint, pulled on the clothing of a warrior, and gathered his weapons, though he had no need of them. His hand-to-hand skills were above reproach. He'd been trained in many forms of fighting almost from the day he could walk. Training that continued to this day, because, as the Black Widow has said, everyone needs practice.

On his previous visit, he had made certain that the American soldier, Sam Wilson, would know the codes to get his people into the palace so they could prepare for battle. As such went, the one from last night was tame compared to some in which he'd participated. But tonight, the Vyfde Kolom would see the folly of their ways in attacking a country that has trained for this sort of thing since the dawn of time.

Though he didn't need them, the weight of the knives, chakram, collapsible quarterstaff and spear comforted him. He would stand with the others, the fugitives of the Accords, the Dora Milaje, and Wakanda's military, and together, they would prevail.

The Palace

Before Sunset

Clouds dotted the sky, easing the glare of the afternoon sun. Not that it bothered Steve. He just wanted this thing with Hrolf over with, so they could deal with Klaw, and find Kaya. It was killing him, this not knowing. But he couldn't let worry invade his concentration. The headset in his ear beeped. "Sam?"

"In place, Steve. Ready to go on your command."

"Stand by."

His headset crackled, bringing with it the sound of metal on metal, and the zzzt of electricity barely contained. "My fighting skills are legendary, Old Man, yet I'm relegated to appliance repairman? Vision and I should be on the frontlines with the rest."

Natasha sidled up to Steve, keeping her voice low so those without comms wouldn't hear. "Says the man who had thirty cars dropped on him at the Leipzig/Halle Airport."

Over Tony's protest, Steve ordered, "Save it. We need the grid back up and running ASAP, and you're not just the best man for the job, you're the only one." Appealing to Tony's ego nearly always got him the results he was looking for.

Everyone had been briefed and were ready for this to end, as were Steve and his people. They all knew what to do, and what signals to look for. Steve hefted the shiny black shield, sending a silent prayer for Kaya's safety.

Bucky came up on his other side. "You don't really believe all that crap about meteors and the blood moon do you?"

Steve took a moment to think over what he'd read in the follow-up to the original email.

Tonight, the world will experience its second blood moon in less than two years. It will occur at the same time as the Neofelis meteor shower, which will be especially heavy this year. These extraordinary events happening simultaneously were written about in Wakandan legend. It is said that going into battle as the moon has just begun to crest the horizon assures the leader victory over his or her opponents.

The leader of the Vyfde Kolom would see this event as a sign that he will be triumphant in his quest to become king of Wakanda.

He must be stopped before he destroys all that we and our ancestors have built. The reigning monarch, crowned or not, must be the one to defeat the leader of the Vyfde Kolom, and be seen doing it, by his people and ours. This will show his followers that he is not a god who has taken human form, but just a man.

"Doesn't matter what I believe, Buck. I've seen so many fantastic things before and after the ice, that I know enough not to rule anything out. If Hrolf believes it, that's all that counts."

Imani came to stand with them, a spear in her left hand. "I do not understand how we will denounce Hrolf to his followers. We have no leader with which to defeat him. T'Challa is dead, as is the uncle. Dr. Hawa is unwilling to engage in battle, and Princess Kaya's fate is unknown. Next in line would be cousins who are too young, or out of the country at this time."

Through their headsets, Sam spoke. "Steve, didn't you and Tic-Tac say you ran into the Black Panther? What happened to him?"

From his perch on the roof of the palace, Clint added his voice. "He's probably lurking around, waiting for the right time to join the fight. That is if you go by the legends."

Exhaling hard, Steve raised his chin. "We'll find out soon enough. Back to your posts. The sun's going down soon. However, we can't rely on Hrolf to adhere to an artificially imposed schedule."

Wanda's soft voice whispered in his ear, "We have many legends in Sokovia, some of which specify the exact time and place for some events."

His companions faded away, all but Bucky, Natasha, Imani and Ife. They would be the vanguard. Once again, the device at his hip vibrated, another signal from Cameron, who had been monitoring the city in hopes of locating Hrolf's hideout, or any other information he could find. Holding in a groan, Steve tapped his headset. "All units. Stay sharp. Attack is imminent."

"Take a moment to gather your thoughts, people. Wouldn't want to rush into anything," Tony's voice commented with a touch of humor.

Steve shook his head, grinning, but didn't respond. He'd just gotten another message from Cameron. "Wait for the signal. Oh, and watch out for the Sparrow Hawk."

Sensing confusion from those nearby, Steve mused that not all of their people would get the reference, and those that did would explain it to the rest. Hopefully, only someone who knew the origins of NVGs, or Night Vision Goggles. With Wakandan technology being so far above the rest of the world, the hardware wouldn't be as bulky as in the past. The goggles Sam wore served several functions aside from giving him the ability to see in the dark. The Wakandan replacements made his old ones obsolete. He'd never want to go back. None of them would.

Steve was certain that the scientists here would be able to duplicate both Sam's wingpack and Scott's suit, given time. Not even Stark Industries had the technology required for the Ant-Man suit. From his research, Dr. Pym refused to allow a Stark to get his hands on the Pym particle that made the suit work. Tony himself had often expressed dismay at not being able to recreate the particle, and wondered what had happened between his father and Pym that the man was so distrustful of the Stark family.

~~O~~

From his perch high above the city, Clint scanned the streets with a pair of powerful binoculars that looked like ordinary sunglasses. Touching the right earpiece increased magnification, the left reduced it. He also had a heads-up display that provided time, date and weather conditions.

He activated the heat sensors, searching the buildings on the path that the retreating rebels had taken the night before when they cut and run. Many buildings were impervious to scanning, and he hoped the general population had done as directed and evacuated to the outlying areas. As always, there would be some who either didn't take the order seriously, stayed behind to watch the events unfold, or just didn't want to go. It reminded Clint of all the lives lost due to natural disasters when residents didn't heed the evacuation orders issued by the government and had parties instead.

Just because the rebels had retreated to the west didn't mean that's where they would attack from. That's why there were three others, members of the Dora Milaje, performing this same operation from other vantage points. Clint activated his headset on the frequency assigned to his team, Zahra, Ny'asia, and Ka'Mya. "Red One to Reds Two, Three, and Four. Sitrep."

"Red Two, all clear." This was Ka'Mya, the least verbose of the three.

"Red Three, nothing to report." Zahra carried more weapons hidden on her person than Natasha.

"Red Four, the same. No activity at this time." Of the three, Ny'asia spoke out most often, and seemed not nervous, but anxious to engage in battle. This bothered Clint because soldiers should always be ready for a fight while doing everything they could to avoid it. Ny'asia relished it. He sensed a tenuous hold on her restraint that would snap at the least provocation. She would be the one most likely to brag about the number of kills she'd committed without the aid of another.

While it was refreshing having an all-business team, Clint missed the friendly bantering he enjoyed with the Avengers. "Acknowledged. Stay sharp." The last was unnecessary. The Dora Milaje were always on the ball. He clicked over to another frequency. "Barton to Cap."

"Go ahead."

"Just calling to report that there's nothing to report. Yet."

Clint pictured Steve's disappointed Cap face. It had almost the same affect on women that what Natasha called his puppy eyes did, turning a no into a yes within seconds, depending on the circumstances. But the what worked most often was if-we-get-stopped-remember-you're-deaf-and-I-don't-speak-English. Unfortunately, none of those would work here, or this would've been over long ago.

Wanda interrupted. "The moon cresting the horizon to the east. The meteor shower should begin soon as well."

"Beginning now, keep unnecessary chatter to a minimum, guys. If Klaue has joined forces with Hrolf, this could turn into a bloodbath."

He did, and didn't, agree with Steve's assessment, but now wasn't the time to point out the obvious.

Ny'asia broke into the conversation. "They're coming. An advance guard approaches from the east."

Clint had left the channel to the rest of the team open, and the excitement in her voice could be heard by everyone. Without seeing their faces, he knew that they knew she would be one to look out for. That bloodlust could take over and she might not recognize the difference between friend and foe. He patted the secret pocket of his suit to reassure himself that the supply of Taser disks was still there. If it came down to it, he would take her down himself necessary. Someone had to make the hard choices, and today, it was on all of them.

~~O~~

Using the suit, Tony performed a diagnostic on the power grid. According to the results, only vital points were hit, meaning that someone had inside knowledge of the inner workings. It's always an inside job. Wonder what Klaue promised him or her to get them to go along with the plan. Money and power are always good incentives to assign the bad guys.

As he worked, Tony spoke to the suit standing sentry nearby. "Reggie, get Friday on the line."

"Right away, boss."

Seconds later, the familiar voice of the AI turned life-model decoy came on the line. "At your command, Mr. Stark.

"What's the word on our MIT project?"

The suit projected a holographic image of Friday in front of him. "The target is becoming restless, and may bolt at any time."

"If it happens, you know what to do."

"Enact the capture-the-flag protocol. Everything's in place, boss. The vehicles, decoys, and pizza are in place, and awaiting the word."

Going old school for some of the repairs, Tony put on a welder's helmet and picked up a welding torch. "Keep on it, Friday. Reggie, give her anything she needs to complete this mission."

"You got it, boss."

The hologram of Friday winked out, and the open line to Reggie closed, leaving him in peace. Sort of. Vision stood guard outside the power station, having morphed his outward appearance to more closely resemble a native of Wakanda. If he needed the android's assistance, he would be available within moments. "Why do kids have to be so hard-headed?"

MIT Off-Campus Housing

Cambridge, Massachusetts

In the apartment she had lived in since her first year at MIT, the student who went by the name Autumn Townsend paced from one end of the living room to the other while listening for more information on the coup in Wakanda. Most of the reports had the aftertaste of speculation rather than the full-bodied piquancy of fact. Even with video evidence, she still did not believe that the king of Wakanda was dead. How could he be? While not immortal, myths and legends stated that the king of Wakanda was difficult to kill. T'Challa would have found a way to survive the attack in the park.

She shut off the television, gathered the bare minimum possessions that she would need for her journey, and left the apartment. On the way down the stairs, she called for a car to take her to a private airstrip where transportation always stood ready, should it be needed. She sent the signal and received a positive response.

Through the glass doors of the lobby, she could see the car waiting to whisk her away. Without waiting for the driver to assist, she climbed in the back and shut the door. "We must hurry. Take the quickest route possible."

The woman behind the wheel had red hair tucked up under the cap of her uniform. "Of course, miss. Please fasten your seatbelt."

As Autumn did so, the automatic locks clicked, and the vehicle pulled into traffic. To pass the time, she powered up her computer to work on a project for an up-coming robotics competition in which she was an individual entrant rather than part of a team.

After a while, she noticed that the streets were unfamiliar, and that they were headed in the wrong direction. Autumn activated the intercom. "You're going the wrong way. Turn around immediately or I will…"

The driver chuckled. Not with derision, but as if she found her amusing. "What will you do to me?"

"Have you arrested for holding me against my will. You will spend many years in prison for this offense you are committing."

"How am I holding you against your will? No one forced you to get in the car."

Angry that the driver wouldn't obey her commands, Autumn took out her phone. However, when she attempted to make a call, the device sparked and became too hot to hold. It fell to the floor of the car. There were more sparks, a small flame, and the device died an ignoble death. Without picking it up, she could see that it would no longer function.

Unbuckling her seatbelt, Autumn opened the panel that controlled the partition between the compartments, only to find that they had been disabled. Frustrated, she pounded on the partition. "You will release me immediately, or I will see you severely punished in the name of…"

Smoke filled the rear compartment. Autumn coughed, and her eyes drooped as the gas did its work.

~~O~~

In the rearview mirror, Friday watched her passenger slump on the seat and fall to the side. She activated the passenger restraint system to guarantee her safety and kept driving.

Upon arrival at the destination, Friday parked near the entrance, got out and opened the rear door. She turned the young woman onto her back and sat her up. Bending at the knees, she pulled her over onto one shoulder in a fireman's carry and went inside where she was met by Colonel Rhodes, who followed her to the lift. "She okay?"

"Yes, but she won't be a happy camper when she wakes up. The gas didn't hurt her. Might have a headache when she wakes up, but nothing more."

Rhodey followed Friday out of the lift on the residential floor, using his cane for support. "I could've carried her."

"No offense, colonel, but you're in no shape for this kind of work. I have no doubt that under normal circumstances, you're more than capable, but with limited strength in your legs, you wouldn't have been able to go the distance." Her companion opened the door and followed her inside. She lay the girl on the bed with her head on the pillow and removed her shoes. "The soporific will wear off soon and we need to be ready. She will be decidedly unhappy to find herself confined."

Peering at the girl's face, Rhodey shook his head. Autumn was dressed in close-fitting workout pants and a sports bra. Her long hair was twisted into a series of braids that had been wrapped around the top of her head forming a high bun. The only adornments she wore were a pair of gold and diamond stud earrings, a tattoo on her right wrist, and another on her upper back, only part of which could be seen above her clothing. "She's really a princess?"

Friday motioned, and Rhodey stepped out into the hall with her. "Indeed, she is, colonel. The young woman I just kidnapped is Princess Shuri of Wakanda, the secret younger sister of King T'Challa."

TBC

Shuri = Autumn Village in Japanese, hence the alias Autumn Townsend