Spoilers: The first Avengers movie, maybe a bit of both Thor movies.
Warning: I am altering it so that it fits the movies, but also so that it will make sense and not be too confusing to understand.
A flash outside my room had me freezing, spooked. A deep, loud rumble that vibrated the house followed made me jump, and my best friend stared at me.
"What's wrong, Wildcat?" he asked. "Are you really afraid of a little thunder?"
Wildcat is just a nickname, my real name is _ Howlett. Yeah, you guessed it. Logan Howlett is my father.
"I'm not overly fond of what follows," I replied, looking out my window warily. It began to pour outside. I've been pretty jumpy about lightning ever since I got stuck in New York when those aliens tried to invade.
I'd engaged in fighting the aliens with the Avengers, when the one called Thor called upon the power of storms. Just as lightning flashed, one of those giant aliens that swam in the air had been put down and fallen. I tried to run, but it was so large that it had been impossible to avoid getting crushed by it. I couldn't get out, no matter how much I struggled and tried to use my claws to get free. I was stuck there for hours until somebody moved it.
What was odd was that it had been Loki who'd moved it. He scooped me up into his arms and he had this resigned look on his face as he strode towards the Avengers. When they saw me in his arms, trembling they immediately got ready to attack if necessary.
"Who is that, brother, and why are they bloodied and shaking?" Thor demanded. Loki looked down at me and I simply lifted my dog tags for him to see.
"Her name is _ Howlett, apparently," he replied in a bored tone. "I found her stuck under one of the Chitauri bodies. She was trapped and she's bound to feel claustrophobic now."
I looked into his green and blue eyes and they were anything but bored-sad, angry, pained, yes. But far from boredom. I regain enough of my wits to manage a strangled whisper to be put down. He tries to set me down, but my head spins as blood rushes and I almost crumple to my knees. Instead of letting me fall, however, he quickly wrapped a steady arm sound my waist.
I look at him again, but this time, I'm struck by the dirt and blood on his face, the once perfect raven locks that had hints of brown and chestnut in disarray, the tears his arrogant smirk hides. I touch his cheek, yet I am ever wary of everyone and everything around me, just like my father taught me.
"Behind every smile is a thousand frowns, the prettiest eyes have cried the most tears, and the kindest hearts lie when they say they're fine," I said, modifying a common quote.
His eyes lit up with a spark at that and he bent to hide his face in mine. Only I will know the tear he shed. How it ran down his high, proud cheekbones to land on my neck, hot and wet.
"I feel you," I murmured. Then he had surrendered and been taken away. I had been present as they muzzled him, saw how defeated he looked. I was the one who went over to them both and ignored Thor, touching his cheekbones, looking into his eyes.
"Should you ever lose yourself, come to me and we'll go look for you," I told him. He sighed and nodded. Only later when I was watching the news with my dad did I see that the cameras had caught me with him, including that last bit.
"Wildcat, daughter of Wolverine, was filmed to be with the one called Loki, and she appeared to awfully friendly with him," one reporter exclaimed. "What ties does she have to him, and was she friends to him? In the clip we're about to show you, she is seen to be talking to Loki."
Indeed, the camera had shown me dressed in jeans and a leather jacket, touching Loki's face. They even caught me murmuring to him, every single word. Needless to say, I got a lot of criticism for it. At one point, I was stopped on the street and pestered by a reporter. I was already fed up, so I snatched the microphone from her.
"Do any of you know what Loki may or may not have gone through to make him act like this? Do any of you have any idea of what kind of pain he may carry inside of him? I'm not making excuses for him. I know what he did and tried to do, but until you have a fucking clue, piss off and leave it alone."
Yeah, they shut up for it a bit afterward and I stopped getting irritated by reporters. That was two and a half years ago. Dad never questioned me about my actions, but I could tell he was proud of me for doing what I believed to be the right thing.
"You know what?" I said suddenly. "It's time for me to get past this stupid PTSD thing. I'm going out." Quicksilver shrugged.
"Whatever floats your boat, Wildcat," he said. "Don't get electrocuted."
"Haha," I said sarcastic as I zipped up my high collared leather jacket. "I'll see you in a bit. Don't worry if I don't return. I might go see how Natasha and Clint are doing."
"Okay," he said. "Be careful."