Reb - 1

I had a thought, what would happen if, after the Civil War, they weren't able to do directly to Wakanda?

This was a product of my own imagination and I am well aware I might get some flack for wrong medical details. Sorry about that.

This will be a multiple part story and I'll be rotating between characters.

Reb

Nothing ever happens in my town. Ever. The town is just big enough that there ain't any snoops but just small enough that nothing happens. Nothing that is until those two men appeared in the town park begging for help. The day my life changed.

 The week it happened a snowstorm rolled in. Nothing too exciting except for the fact that no transportation could get in or out of the town because of it. Truckers were stuck as were the drifters on the buses all going somewhere.

The kids loved it since school let out and the snow just kept coming down. The hotels, motels, and inns, were all filled from the three buses, two trains, and five trucks, stuck with the rest of us all. It was one of those circumstances that you saw on television holiday specials.

 That was what made the appearance of the first man so incredible. It happened overnight in the first snowstorm. A perfect cover was what was later explained.

The snow was out and I was one of the first people in town. The snow was something I enjoyed a great deal so I bundled up and walked out in it quietly. A few kids somehow had managed to drag themselves out of bed far before they would have for school to begin snow projects like snowmen and snow forts.

 It took me a long time before I made it to the park and finally found a place to sit. It was quite out, peaceful in its white attire. A rustling in the trees behind me made me tense then a man emerged, wrapped in a poncho-like blanket.

Tall, blonde, and not someone I'd ever seen before. He looked both ways somehow missing me and trudged off in the opposite direction towards the Main Street.

Curiously I slowly stood and followed. I lost him a few times but found him easily enough in town. He was quite quick because in the thirty minutes it took me to follow him into the town, it was already buzzing about the mystery snowstorm man. I watched as he went up and down the street asking questions and looking worried.

I had lunch and watched him stop people on the street for help. Problem is, all the work or help, everyone had, had already been claimed. That and no one trusted someone they didn't know how had gotten there.

As I ate my early lunch I noticed that he was ill-suited for this weather even in the warm looking poncho it wasn't warm enough.

In my mind, I thought back to when I was twelve and my grandfather had invited in a traveling man for Christmas that year. A single act of kindness had probably saved that man's life. He had sent cards every year since and had come to my grandfather's funeral. One act. I watched him for the rest of the day, part of me hoping no one else would help just so I could. I finally paid and rose slowly coming over to the man.

 As I approached I heard his plea to a few other townspeople, "Please, I just need help for me and a friend. I'll work it off but I need sanctuary, please." They all politely turned him down suggesting a place he might check. But he had already checked everywhere, I had seen him.
He was near panic and dropped into the bench and buried his head in his hands.

"Sir?" I ask quietly. He looked up and I smiled a bit knowing I had known that face from somewhere, "Come."

 He lit up but still looked apprehensive, "Miss? Are you sure? I'll pay you back."

 I waved my hand dismissively at that and headed back to the park from where he had come.
 "But my friend..." the man trailed off.

 I waved my hand again struggling to breathe deeply let alone focus on responding to him walking.
He seemed satisfied and walked slowly with me back to the park. I stopped by the bench I had sat at and nodded towards where he had come from trying to catch my breath.

He gave me a suspicious look. Using my hands I signaled I had seen him. He raised an eyebrow at that. I shrugged and sat on the bench.

Rustling signaled him going back in for his friend. A few minutes later they came out the blonde man supporting his dark-haired friend heavily even as they tried to disguise it.

 While the blonde man had a healthy ruddy color in his cheeks from the cold and exercise, his friend was pale and had a glazed look with his lips closer to a cold colder than a warm one. The addition of snow covering the second man in a thick layer made me worry about hypothermia.

Nodding I lead the way slowly out of the park and into the quiet neighborhood. I kept a slow pace and could hear them trudging along behind me. I finally came up on my house and opened it up for them. It was freezing in the house like it was outside.

 I gestured to the couch and armchair in front of the electric fireplace in a sign of sit down. As they passed me I noticed something, red liquid on the floor. One or both of them were bleeding.

 I closed the door and turned on the fireplace before dragging two of my dining room chairs over. Turning to the blonde man I pulled off my own heavy coat and then gestured to the chairs.

He nodded, "Thank you."

 Nodding I went in search of my first aid kit. Coming back with it the blonde man had lowered his friend onto the couch and was standing in front of the fire. He glanced at the black bag I was holding questioningly.

 "First aid," I said shrugging off my jacket and hanging it before putting the bag within reach on the floor.

Waking into the open concept kitchen I turned up the house heat and turned on the hot water. "Why are you helping us?" The man ask suspiciously.

 I sighed and turned to him. Pulling off my gloves and slowly unwinding my scarf I think over the answer. Pulling off my hat I look him straight in the eye, "Because, Captain, I don't have that long to live. So I'd rather help than anything else."

 He flinched at his title but paled when the implications really set in. I have amyotrophic lateral sclerosis. I'm lucky, I found it early and I've been able to stay ahead of really losing all abilities.

 "I'm sorry." He managed when he finally came to his senses.

I shrug, "I could use something different." Pouring water into the coffee machine I look over my shoulder, "Two or three?"

 Captain America considers a moment before shrugging, "Three sure."

 I put the water in and walked back over to them. The house is warmer so my joints are working better allowing me to move quickly.

 Since I had displayed the fact I knew who they were, the Captain shrugged off his snow-encrusted poncho and draped it over the chair before doing the same for his friend.

The Captain had some nasty bruises but his friend was the one I was worried about. He hadn't gotten any better from the walk here and I could now see why. His left arm was gone leaving only a stub of metal behind confirming what I had already known, they were the Sokovia Accords fugitives.

But my medical training overruled my law-abiding citizen side and I began digging through my bag. The metal arm, or what was left of it was the problem. The man wouldn't be able to get warm or stay warm if I couldn't find a way to balance the chill from the exposed metal.

I finally settled on a baby hat that was around the right size for the stub. When I moved for the arm, the man pulled away unconsciously, eyes still far away. I knew there were some things I didn't want to cross so I looked to the man's best friend for guidance.

 Captain leaned down to his friend's level, "Let her help Buck. Nothing's gonna happen here."

 Slowly I reached up and secured the hat around his stub of a left arm. It really looked ridiculous. The big imposing man covered in black armor with a bright foamy pink hat stuck on his shoulder, it almost made me laugh. The Captain must have also thought it funny cause when I glanced up he had an amused glint in his eye.

 I take the man's hand in mine. It was freezing and raw from the cold. Hunting for the right vein I count his pulse. It's safe, strong really. I pull out my penlight and wave it over one eye and then the other. Fine. He looked confused as he stared off into space.

"How do you feel?" I ask. Something is wrong I just don't know what. "мне холодно(I am cold.)" he responds in Russian faintly.

 I frown at least he is still cold. If he wasn't I'd have a real problem. "All right that's easy enough to fix," I respond, pulling myself up.

 "You speak Russian?" The Captain asked as he helped me up suspicion lacing his words.

 "I spent a summer in Russia," I respond, fetching my electric blanket from another chair. "There should be a picture somewhere on the wall." I nod to the opposite wall.

I have hundreds of photos from my travels, people I'd met, and the places I'd seen. I tucked the blanket around the one-armed man, "Tell me when you’re not cold okay?"

 He finally met my eyes and they tilted ever so slightly in the affirmative.

I pulled a cloth out of the bag and put some cleansing alcohol on it. The smell threw me back to my days at the hospitals. "I'm gonna take a look at that lovely gash you have on your head," I warned.
 He slowly turned it so I had a better angle. Wiping off some of the blood his hair kept falling into the wound.

Huffing in frustration I rummaged through the bag until I found what I wanted. It was an awkward task pulling up his hair. He tilted his head down so I could reach with both my hands at the back of his head.

"There." Once the hair was back it was easier to clean the wound on the side of his head.

 "You've led quite a life." The Captain remarked from behind me.

 "You use what you have. I've seen the world while I still could." I leaned back surveying my work. He looked better and as far as I could tell I had addressed it all.

Turning his friend in blue was still looking at my wall. "You."
He turned around.
"Sit."

 He smiled just a bit before lowering himself into the chair.  I got up and pulled out an album of pictures. "There, look at that. Now let me see that bruise."
He picked up the album and tilted his head.

It was turning into a horrid shade of purple mixed with green. I applied the salve that would help it heal and then grabbed an instant ice pack and handed it to him. His leg was bleeding so I pulled up the pant leg to take a look. It wasn't anything horrendous but it wasn't pretty either. Cleaning it and wrapping it I sat back. "I do believe that covers unless either of you want to reveal another life-threatening injury you would like to reveal."

 The Captain looked up shaking his head. He looked over at his friend who shook his head as well ever so little. Men of few words. That was fine with me.

 Rising slowly, my joints finally giving me their complaints now that the adrenaline rush was gone. My whole being is stiff from the rush. It's all I can do to force my hands to not shake.
 I packed up my med kit and left it by the couch. I don't think I can convince my body to put it back up.

 I hobble over to the kitchen pouring those three cups of coffee. I put one on the side table next to the Captain before pressing the other warm cup into the other man's hand. Hobbling back to the counter I sipped from my cup when the pain erupted from the base of my spine. I hate my ALS.

My cup slipped hitting the counter loudly before rolling off the counter and smashing onto floor spilling scalding hot contents everywhere. Just what I needed another mess.

 The spasms in my back stopped and I finally was able to bend over and start cleaning up. The Captain was already there working with one of my towels on the coffee.
 I sighed as I grab the shattered prices of ceramics. I was really starting to like that mug but then again this was the fourth one I'd broken so I really need to stop getting attached. I reach up and dump the shards in the trash before waving off the Captain and pulling myself up.

 "Thanks." I pour myself another smaller cup of less hot coffee in a non-breakable cup.
"It's late. You both probably want your rest. Make yourself at home upstairs. Everything is clean and the linens are all fresh. Extra clothes in the top of your closets and extra blankets in the linen closet." I wave my hand at the stairs.

 The Captain's friend practically beelined it for the stairs. The Captain and I watched him vanish upstairs.

 "Well at least we know he isn't bleeding out internally," I remarked drily.

 The Captain snorted, "At least."

 I made it across the floor and folded up her electric blanket.

 "Thank you again." The Captain hefted up her med bag and walked over to the closet she had left open.

 "It's the least I can do. So what kind of trouble did you two get into that wasn't said in the news?" She jabbed lightly not really expecting an answer.

 "Family feud let's go with that. Family feud on steroids." The Captain responded with equal lightness.

 "Ouch. Family is hard enough when they aren't fighting." She grabbed her mop and started working on cleaning the floor where coffee, blood, and water had been spilled.

 "I take it you have experience?" The Captain asked, helping her mop.

 "Not on steroids but let's just say my family didn't agree with my choices." She gestured to the wall. "Now their waiting for me to die so they can swoop in and take their payday."

The Captain didn't respond right away; it was a thing that most people were shocked to hear. "That must be hard."

 She smiled shrugging, "You get used to it. It was worse when they were all trying to bully me to sign the will in their favor. I signed almost all of it into the different charities I'd visited and put a very small bit for each of them into stocks so they do get some money and they all left when they realized I wasn't going to change it."

 He smiled "Well done."

 She grinned," Yeah it was pretty great. Well worth the reaction."

They both chuckled and finished mopping in silence. "So how did you two get stuck here?" She ask breaking the silence.

 "Our friend was flying us to safety but the thing is he was running out of fuel since the plane wasn't designed for all of us. He had to go get more so he dropped us here and left after patching my friend's arm."

 She nodded walking over to the fireplace the ponchos they had been wearing were finally dry revealing the beautiful craftsmanship. "African." She decided, admiring the work.

"Yes and quite warm." He agreed.

 She folded both of them and put the chairs back. "So, about that favor you owe me..."

 He looked over at her curiously but she caught the look of worry. In his world, a favor was probably pretty messy.

 She smiled, "Can you help me decorate for Christmas?"

 He relaxed at that and smiled, "Whatever you want, sure."

 She smiled, "Well if you know how to cure the incurable, I'll take that but since you don't I'll settle for a decorated house."

 He smiled at her sarcasm and nodded towards the hall with a few doors, "This way?"

 "Oh, you don't have to now. You're probably tired." She protested as he walked down the hall, hands drifting from door to door before opening the garage door flipping on the lights and hopping down the stairs.

 She gaped at him as he began walking around her neatly organized garage, "How did you know it was that door?"

 He shrugged as he pulled out a few of the boxes labeled Christmas. "You have the heat on. The door was cold. That means no internal heating. You don't have a lean-to so it's not an extra shed or room. The garage is the best guess."

She stepped down into the room. "So how did you know that the stuff was in the garage and not the attic?"

 He huffed pulling down a heavier box not from the weight but from her curiosity, "You can't do stairs anymore you indicated so with letting us have the whole floor. You don't have friends to help and your family is out. Any other help from beyond this town isn't an option anymore. You would need help to put it all up but you’re determined to do what you still can do they would be reachable like the garage."

 She gaped at him before grinning, "That is disturbing."

 He ground out a short laugh, "Perhaps. To me, it's just an assumption now."

 She smiled as she opened one of the boxes, "So what should I call you?"

 He stopped and considered for a moment, "Call me Steve."

 She looked up with a smile, "Call me Reb it's short for Rebekah."

 "What, 'cause you were such a rebellious child in your youth?" Steve teased.

 "Something like that. Honestly get the rest of it later, go rest, clean up, sleep even." Reb laughed gently.

 Steve smiled dusting off his hands, "I do look pretty horrendous, don't I? Alright, you win." He helped her up. They could both hear the shower upstairs on.

"If you need to shower its that door after you grab some clean clothes." Reb pointed to another door in the hall.

 Steve nodded pulling the garage door closed bidding her goodnight and turning off for the stairs.
Reb watched him vanish upstairs. The reality of what she has just done hit her.

What had she gotten herself into?

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