Chapter Text
Erik’s eyes opened slowly, he turned his head around the room trying to get a handle on just where the hell he was.
The last thing he remembered was extracting the blade out of his chest and losing consciousness.
Was he dead?
He slowly became aware that this wasn’t the case, he slowly became aware of where he was. This room was familiar to him, his eyes locked onto the tech all around him. Looking down he noticed that he didn’t have the necklace anymore. Looking down at his chest, he noticed a long scar at the center of his chest.
He wasn’t dead after all, T’Challa had not respected his wish to die after all.
He screamed and cried out to no one in particular, there didn’t seem to be anyone around. Suddenly T’Challa’s sister came into view, she carried around a datapad no doubt looking over his vitals.
“How are you Erik?” she was looking directly at him now.
“Fucking great, never been better”
Shuri nodded “That’s good to hear, you seem to have made a full recovery”
“Let me go”
Shuri frowned “I am afraid, I cannot do that”
“Why not?”
“You know why, you are dangerous, to yourself and others”
Erik struggled to move but realized his arms and legs were restrained.
“Those restraints are made of vibranium, you will not be able to escape.”
Erik sighed, he could no longer feel the strength of the herb. He no longer had the power of the black panther.
“We were able to extract the herb from your body.”
“Where is he?” He didn’t have to specify who he meant.
Shuri rolled her eyes at him and went back to analyzing data before leaving him alone. Erik laid there for a time, anger brewing through him. He had been ready to die, but he hadn’t even been granted that request, so much for Wakandan honor.
I knew they were always full shit
His thoughts were interrupted by the door sliding open, looking up he saw T’Challa walk in, wearing all black much like the black panther suit.
He stared directly into Erik’s eyes, and Erik stared back.
“Why did you save me?”
“I couldn’t just leave you to die.”
“Why? Is it because you feel guilty about all the shit your father did, so you're making up for it now is that it?
T’Challa didn’t answer just stared back at Erik.
“Well, it’s too fucking late for that. You should have done that a long time ago, back when shit mattered. Not now, I’m way past the point of no return.”
“I want to help you.”
“Bullshit, you don’t want to help me. You’ll keep me locked up in here forever. I’ll be alive but you won’t think about me pass that. How could you want to help me after everything i’ve done.”
“I’ve started outreach centers starting in Oakland, and all over the world.”
Erik snorted “Is that it? Do you really think that’s going to help, we’ve been tried that, it’s not gonna help us for shit”
“How do you-”
“How do I know, because I fucking lived it. You treat me, one of your own as an outsider but treat fucking white people like long time friends. Don’t think I didn’t know about that.”
“I gave you chance, the right to challenge me because I thought you deserved something.”
Erik nodded “That’s right, so I shouldn’t blame you is that right?”
T’Challa didn’t answer but instead stayed silent for a moment. He moved closer until he was a short distance away.
Erik spit at his feet and turned his head away.
“So this is your plan huh? Lock me up and throw away the key.”
“No”
Erik turned back to face him
“You will be released in time, you will be allowed to walk around the palace under supervision”
Erik glared at him “When will let me go?”
T’Challa sighed “When you are not a danger to yourself or others.”
Erik nodded, “So if i’m on my best behavior, you’ll let me go.”
“If you prove you are not a danger, you have my word.”
“Well I’m finding it a bit hard to trust your word after everything that’s happened.”
“I only wish you the best, N’Jadaka”
As T’Challa turned to leave, it dawned on him that he hadn’t used his American name but rather his Wakandan name, the name he was born with.