Chapter Text
Solace:
“You seem to have a little something dribbling off your lip there, sweetheart.”
“Hilarious, Doctor.” Xolani put pointed emphasis on the title, but smiled to take the sting out of her words. She was getting used to the passive-aggressive remarks and prided herself on being able to roll with the punches most of the time. Still, the more plebeian attempts to write her off as a flighty, fluff-brained little girl fresh out of college were getting old.
Let the older female have a laugh at her expense. Nothing she could say would take away the fact that she, Xolani Eze, had gotten a foot in the door at the most prestigious private medical facility of the entire continent... As a nurse practitioner, no less! And yes, that did lead to her having to deal with quite a bit of crap from colleagues who considered a Nurse-Practitioner two steps up from some lady on the street with band-aids in her purse, but... it was worth it to be able to work with so high-profile a client.
She'd been living with her parents and sisters in New York when the alien attacks happened. As a recently graduated nursing student barely into her second year as an RN, she had done what she could to help out.
Under pressure, she'd flourished, and when she had finally made it out of the rubble, she'd had a front row seat to the aftermath of that climactic battle. She'd even caught a glimpse of Captain America, speaking to a police officer, humble as pie. He'd glanced up, seen her there in torn, bloody hospital scrubs, and nodded appreciatively.
After that, there was no question of going back to school to get her Master's in Nursing. She killed herself studying and graduated with a specialization in psychiatric-mental health. It hadn't been her first pick of specialty, but her adviser had talked her into it. Apparently, she had a gift for listening to others and anticipating their emotional needs... a rarer attribute among nurses than one would think.
In the end, Xolani agreed because she wanted to help people, and playing to her strengths seemed the best way to do that. Besides, psychiatric nurses were in high demand, which guaranteed some job security.
After graduation, her parents convinced her to visit her mother's home country of Wakanda and join a private practice there, where she knew people in the mental health field. She suspected a misguided attempt to familiarize her with her roots played a part in it too, but she acquiesced.
People weren't allowed to just pop in and out of the country on vacation, so she knew this might be one of her only opportunities to see the country of her mom's birth up close.
No one bothered to warn her that NPs weren't a recognized thing over there. To be fair, though, the staff at the private practice that accepted her application tried its best to be accommodating.
The head of the practice was a good friend of her parents', and she was grateful he allowed her to get her feet wet, but the prevailing attitude most patients had toward the love-child of a Wakandan native and her American husband was... chilly, to say the least. Even chillier than the idea that they let this “Dr. Nurse” treat them.
All in all, she was proud of herself for sticking it out as long as she had in that toxic environment.
She sent out several applications to various hospitals, clinics, and private practices back in the states, but before she could make any other arrangements... Miracle of miracles, her boss was contacted by the human resources department of the N'yongo Medical Center, one of the most technologically advanced private clinics in the country. It was known that they only catered to the wealthy and elite among Wakanda's citizens, and it just so happened that they had an opening for someone with mental-health expertise.
She found out much later that the suddenness of the offer was due to it being made chiefly for a very special American patient, should he awaken out of cryogenic sleep...
Her father's friend begged off on the excuse that he didn't want to abandon his patients, but mentioned that he happened to have a young, conveniently-American, Nurse-Practitioner under his wing who might be interested in such an opportunity – even if the work itself proved to be quite menial.
The offer had been too much to refuse...
And now, she was swallowing her pride, once again, listening to a bitter old doctor take shots at her, just because she considered her too inexperienced to be there. Sure, there were probably more qualified individuals who might have brought more to the table in the field of psychiatric health... but did any of them have nursing experience and an impeccable bed-side manner on top of that?
Her reasons for getting the job were between her and human resources.
And anyway, she hadn't been drooling in the first place. She'd just been observing how deep the shadows were under their patient's eyes.
As a point of medical interest, of course.
His skin was pale, even past the rim of frost coating the inside of his cryogenic pod. She wanted to ask how it worked: if the occupant could hear outside activity like a coma patient, or if the walls blocked out all sound as well as other stimuli. It seemed unlikely that she'd get an answer without being subtly picked apart for asking, though.
She resolved to look up a manual or talk to somebody on the engineering staff when she had some down-time.
“Since you seem so interested in our subject, why don't you monitor his vitals and write up last week's medical reports, while you're here,” Dr. Older-Woman simpered. Xolani made a point of not learning the names of anyone that thought they were better than her. It felt too much like she was validating their bullshit, otherwise. “You probably have much more experience with that than I do, Nurse.”
“Of course. I'll get right on that.” She kept her tone bland. Self-control was hard, but giving in to the temptation of sarcasm wasn't going to win her anything down the line. Better to make it clear she was being the grown-up in this situation.
She waited until the doctor left the room before turning to flip through their patient's chart. It really wasn't her job to do this. There were plenty of nurses around – who weren't rocking the white lab coat – that could monitor the vital readouts and make sure all the equipment was working properly.
… But if she delegated, that would be tantamount to putting her own pride above the welfare of her patient, at least in her mind. She wasn't nearly jaded enough yet to do that.
Dutifully going through the checklist, Xolani made sure to read every last printout of the patient's current status, which – without putting too fine a point on it – was basically comatose. No changes, though his heartbeat had sped up very slightly while they had been talking outside his pod. A dream of some sort, most likely.
Done with her task, she hesitated before leaving. It was nearly time for lunch, and she wasn't eager to enter the lion's den just yet.
Instead, she took a seat in front of the nearby holo-screen. It had taken her a while to get used to it; technology was much more advanced in Wakanda than the States. When no one was looking, she'd still sometimes catch herself staring at it like a kid looking a very informative lava lamp.
Now, however, she used the light from the screen to read the patient's chart more thoroughly. Most of it was information she had memorized weeks ago.
“James Buchanan Barnes; born in Brooklyn, New York, 1917.”
She wasn't sure why she started reading out loud. It just felt... rude somehow, to sit in his room with her back turned and then just completely ignore his presence.
“Biological age is 29, actual age is nearly 100. At some point, your left arm was replaced with a metal prosthetic. Metal arm was later ripped off – Damn, you've had it rough, huh?”
Only silence greeted her, but Xolani imagined he might have shrugged if he'd been able to answer. He seemed like the tough-guy type. She smiled at the thought before going back to the chart.
“Apart from your physical injuries, you suffer from PTSD and severe psychological trauma from mind control and repeated memory wipes.”
A year ago, she might have joked about this sounding like something out of a cheap science fiction novel, but knowing what she did about privately-funded technological advancements... Nothing she heard truly surprised her anymore.
She continued in this vein for a while longer until she knew she was in danger of missing lunch completely.
“See you later, James,” she said, trying not to drag her feet too obviously as she stepped out into the halls and made for the cafeteria. Luckily, it seemed most of the staff had already come and gone.
She bought herself a yogurt and bacon-lettuce-tomato wrap before making her way toward one of the booth tables in the back.
“Eze!” Her name sounded too loud, echoing across the half-empty cafeteria. The speaker seemed to realize it as well, and he smiled at her sheepishly from his seat.
Xolani laughed a bit. Dr. Okafor was one of the nicer members of the medical staff at the facility, even if his interest in her bordered on transparent. Honestly, she might have considered dating him if he didn't also suffer from some of the same cultural xenophobia as everyone else in this country.
In fact, his first words to her had been something along the lines of, “But you seem so respectful for an American!”
“Dr. Okafor. How are you today?”
“Overworked, but overpaid, as well. I suppose I have nothing to complain about. And you? Are the older ladies giving you trouble again?”
She took her time unwrapping her food before answering. When he wasn't talking about nationalities or making generalizations, he was pleasant enough to talk to.
“You know me, Doctor. Keeping the peace, as always.”
His eyes crinkled in an attractive way when he smiled, and his teeth showed up stark white against the lustrous dark of his complexion. Xolani guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, though his more unassuming mannerisms made him seem younger at times... Exactly what she might have been looking for back home.
“How about your patient, oh Peaceful One? Any changes in his status?”
“I have a lot of patients. Which one would you be referring to?” Her eyes narrowed playfully, as they both knew she had only one patient in her charge worth mentioning. Indeed, the medical facility had otherwise saddled her with all of their safest, most routine cases.
She didn't mind too much, since she was there to help people, and would do so in whatever capacity was required, but it was busy work, and they all knew it. She got bored often, but it was a small price to pay.
The dry joke passed right over her companion's head and his friendly look darkened slightly. To be fair though, she wasn't a terribly funny person to begin with.
“The Winter Soldier. He is still sleeping, right?”
“Of course. What else would he be doing?”
“Good,” he replied emphatically, not answering her question. “I'll never understand why King T'Challa brought his father's killer into his own country.”
“Didn't the Avengers clear his name? I thought James Barnes was framed...”
“Was he? Then why was he imprisoned once again in ice? If he was framed, then who was the true murderer of our former king?” Okafor took his wire-rimmed, stereotypical doctor's glasses off the bridge of his nose and angrily wiped the lenses on the edge of a napkin. She knew they were now treading dangerous ground. Most of the people she met at work and in the city had very strong opinions about T'Chaka's death. He'd apparently been a much-loved ruler.
“Propaganda imposed by the rebel Avengers. If the combined nations of the world cannot control them, what can the King do but agree to harbor their comrade? It is to his credit that he managed to get the man put on ice where he can't murder anymore Wakandans, at the very least.”
Xolani kept her eyes on the tabletop between them. As one of the Winter Soldier's primary care physicians, she had been given clearance to know enough about what really happened that she knew he was dead wrong. Unfortunately, she'd also signed quite a few non-disclosure agreements. The information was very, very classified.
Biting her tongue to keep from blurting anything out in defense of the frozen man, she phrased her next comment delicately around a mouthful of yogurt.
“These are the Avengers we're talking about, though. Captain America, in particular. Do you really think they would impose their will on everyone like that? They've saved the WORLD, Doctor. More than once, I think.”
His lip curled for a moment, and she was almost certain he'd launch into a scathing assessment of her precious Captain America, but he seemed to realize who he was talking to at the last minute.
He made a visible effort to relax instead and shrugged.
“Maybe, but Wakandan blood was on their hands even before they aligned themselves with that menace. We would all do well to take their words with a grain of salt.”
Xolani knew it would be fruitless to point out that the Scarlet Witch's actions had been a publicly acknowledged accident. Clearly, the time for listening was over, and all Okafor wanted was an audience to listen to him rant. It happened a lot when she was around, as everyone in the facility seemed to believe it was their duty to educate her on her skewed, American perception of things.
Humming noncommittally, she continued eating at a steady pace, trying to get out of there and back to work, quickly.
“Anyway, Eze... I hope you're prepared to deal with him if the day comes that they decide to thaw him out.”
“I think I am.” She knew a lot more about the situation than he did, anyway.
He gave her a doubtful look, and her pride took another hit. It's hard when you realize that even your friends think your career is a joke.
“Be careful, Eze. The man is a killer who would rip your pretty throat out without thinking twice.”
“That's a pretty narrow-minded thing to say, coming from a doctor in the field of mental health,” she hissed, irritated that he thought so little of her ability, and finally feeling herself get defensive on her patient's behalf.
Grabbing her tray, she strode away from the table before even waiting to hear his response. The nerve of that ass-face!
Without thinking about it, she turned and made for James' room. Today was shaping up to be more stressful than most, and she really didn't feel like she could stomach the sight of anyone else right then.
His pod sat, just the way she'd left it, and she plopped down in the chair, spinning it to face him this time.
And then, because she felt she needed to let out her frustrations somehow, she began to talk to him.
“I'll never understand why it is that people who have NO CLUE what they're talking about always have the most shit to say!” As an afterthought, she added, “You ever have that problem, James?”
No response, but she did – oddly enough – feel better. She even laughed a bit at the fact that she was unburdening herself on someone who had no way of even hearing her.
“Soon they're going to have to sign me into the psych ward,” she drawled. “Then again, I think I'm safe until I start hearing you talk back. Anyone ever tell you you're a fabulous listener, James?”
She rose back to her feet, feeling too restless to keep sitting. On a whim, she pressed her hand against the clear, poly-carbonate walls of the cryogenic pod. It felt cool, but not cold to the touch like she'd thought. It would seem the cooling agent – whatever it was – was confined to the interior.
“Don't worry, James. I know what you've been through,” she found herself reassuring the poor man. He really did get the short end of the stick... “I've got your back.”
She watched his face through the barrier, and was momentarily blindsided by the sudden desire to know what color his eyes were.
“Doc-- er, Nurse? Uh, Miss Eze?”
Quickly tearing her attention away from the tube, Xolani turned to face the young nurse who was having trouble addressing her.
She smiled, trying not to let her embarrassment show. How long had the woman been standing there?!
“Xolani is fine. What can I do for you?”
“Your two o'clock appointment showed up early and Dr. Akerele wanted to know if you'd like to take her four-thirty. She has a conference to prepare for in the morning, and she knows you're already comfortable with her patient.”
“Yes, of course. Can you let her know for me? I might not have enough time to send her a message if my two o'clock runs over.”
The nurse nodded, though her face took on a pinched expression at having to do so. Xolani felt bad for making more work for her since she knew only too well how busy RNs could get, but she was still flustered from having been caught conversing with an unresponsive patient.
She turned to follow the other woman out, and neither of them noticed the slight spike in the Winter Soldier's heart-rate before they left.