The Need For Respect

The subject of this story was chosen by you all in a poll during my Marvel week around the release of Avengers: Endgame. I hope you all enjoy!

Loathe as he was to admit it, things had gone very wrong for Grant Ward. He had betrayed SHIELD for Hydra and attempted to lead when the latter fell apart but he was only met by continued disappointment and failure. Despite being certain that he was destined to be so much more than he currently was, life seemed unwilling to cooperate with Ward and he was left as a bitter shell of a man looking to desperately prove himself. He knew precisely how he was going to do that too - he was going to kill Phil Coulson, SHIELD’s new director of operations, and in doing so he’d undeniably get his name in the history books. Then absolutely nobody would be able to deny his impact on the world.

After much searching Ward was finally able to find somebody who would be able to help him bring his goals to fruition. She claimed to be a witch although Ward surmised that she was just another Inhuman or had perhaps been enhanced by one of the Infinity Stones the way the Scarlet Witch of the Avengers had. Still, she had the ability to give Ward what he would need in order to get close enough to Coulson to kill him and that was all that mattered to him. He was a single-minded kind of guy these days. There was no point getting involved in wider ideologies when they had only failed him before.

“I know why you’ve sought me out,” the witch purred, tracing her fingers along Ward’s shoulder blades. He was uncomfortable but remained resolute and still, allowing her to have her fun. “I can give you exactly what you want; what you’ve always wanted but been too afraid to admit.” The comment caused Ward to pause. As far as he was concerned he’d never been afraid to admit that he wanted to bring down SHIELD, he had just been very good at pretending to be one of them. Even as he considered his thoughts though, the witch’s smile spread wider. “Not that, dear boy. I can give you what you really want.”

Ward’s intrigue was piqued. What the hell was she talking about then if it wasn’t his desire for revenge against Coulson and his merry band of SHIELD cultists? “And what is that?” he asked, his heart beginning to beat a little faster in anticipation of some great revelation. The witch placed her hand directly above his heart and smiled.

“Respect.” As she spoke the single word answer, a ripple of energy passed through Ward and he took a sharp step back, suddenly at a loss for breath. His eyes watered. His heart raced. The world was a blur and only one thing felt certain: the witch had been right. Above all else, all Ward really wanted was to be respected.

Left to contemplate the revelation, Ward realized that he could no longer see the witch nor make out his surroundings. It was as if a deep fog had surrounded him, obscuring his vision and leaving him unnerved. What had the witch done to him? He tried to call out but all that left his mouth was a deep roar like that of a savage animal. Why couldn’t he speak? Had the witch stolen his voice? No, it felt like something more… 

Staring down at himself, Ward could only watch as his pale skin began to adopt a darker tone; ivory becoming ebony while his lean body began to pack on thick strong muscle. The cotton shirt that had hung somewhat loosely around his lean torso soon began to change, the sleeves disappearing entirely while the body of it began a leather material that clung tightly around his expanding chest. At the same time the fabric of his pants became leather too and reshaped into that of a battle-skirt that rest on his meaty thighs, while his lower legs were covered in bronze shin-guards.  Finally the pelt of a white wolf covered Ward’s shoulders and back as well as his forearms, and traditional Wakandan jewellery settled around his neck.

The last thing to change was Ward’s face - his nostrils became wider, his beard thicker and his hair began to change texture from thin and straight to thick uncontrollable curls that had been carefully cut and shaved in the manner of traditional Wakandan style. He was totally unrecognisable from the American man he had been moments before and nobody, not even his former friends and allies, would have been able to place him as the treacherous turncoat that he truly was.

The world began to fade back into existence then and Ward was greeted not by the sight of the witch’s lair but instead by the bright open skies of a snowy mountain region. He relaxed back into the grand throne behind him and soon recognised his surroundings as Gorilla City, the home of the Jabari Tribe in Wakanda. How do I know that? Almost instantly a second voice in his mind responded: Because this is your home. Your tribe. Despite the absurdity of the thought, he knew it to be true.

Looking around at the various other Wakandan warriors in the room, the man formerly known as Grant Ward recognised the look of respect in their eyes. He was their leader and they would do anything he asked of them. Suddenly though he felt no ill-will towards Coulson or SHIELD - in fact he was entirely indifferent towards those outsiders. Anything past the borders of Wakanda was not his concern and the petty squabble between SHIELD and Hydra was far beneath him.

M’Baku, the legendary Man-Ape of Wakanda, let out a content sigh as he lounged back on his throne. Although he struggled to recall what had happened in the moments immediately preceding and his thoughts and memories of being a white man raised to become a supervillain terrorist were quickly fading away, he felt totally at peace knowing he had the respect he deserved. Now though he was just itching for a fight to prove himself as the fierce warrior he was!