The next day was very eventful, but slightly boring to read about so I'll just give a brief summary of the most important parts.
To start the day off, I had breakfast with the Avengers again. This time everyone was in more of a hurry, since Mr. Wilson was leaving on some important business, and Ms. Romanoff was going to visit Hawkeye, who I learned had a family, including a new baby named Nathaniel Pietro Barton. To my surprise the formidable Black Widow was acting like an excited aunt, a cooler, slightly more intimidating version of course, but an aunt nonetheless. Wanda and Vision didn't make an appearance at all. It was explained to me that Vision didn't have to eat, but no one mentioned Wanda. I assumed it wasn't my place to ask questions yet so I kept quiet.
After breakfast I was picked up by an actual helicopter, and I couldn't decide if I thought that was exciting or ridiculous. I was sure that I regretted the lack of a fancy outfit. Natasha let me borrow some clothes, and although usually I'd love the tough biker-chick vibe, I felt like getting picked up in a private helicopter deserved something along the lines of a suit or at least a formal shirt and pencil skirt. Steve, who informed me at the last minute that he would be joining me, was wearing everyday clothing; a fitted (nicely, sexily fitted) white t-shirt and jeans with a brown leather jacket. Since he didn't feel the need to dress up I assumed I'd be alright as well. And since I was going to be working for the Avengers I figured get another chance to ride in an helicopter wearing a well-cut suit, black pumps, and glasses with my hair in a French knot. It was a bit of an odd fantasy of mine...
When I arrived, I had the pleasure to meet the one and only Pepper Potts, the most influential businesswoman in the country, and an inspiration to girls around the world. For the CEO of a multi-billion dollar company she's surprisingly down to earth. She was gracious and respectful to me even though I was kind of a failure compared to her. Kind of a failure period actually... After watching her and talking to her for a while I decided that I too wanted to be Pepper Potts when I grew up.
Stark Tower was incredible. Cutting edge technology was everywhere, and it truly felt like stepping into the future. It was such a change from the small town where I'd grown up. I had to try very hard not to stare at things.
We didn't have to negotiate my contract much at all. There was a probation period, but after that I'd become the Avengers official P.R. specialist. The pay was generous, the vacation time ample, the rules, though strict, were reasonable, and there was even a large signing bonus, so I could get a new car and move my belongings. To my surprise, I was actually expected to live on-site at the Avengers facility. I felt strange about living amongst such incredible heroes, like a grasshopper among giants, but Pepper informed me, confidentiality, that I was also on-site to help Wanda, Steve, and Vision adjust to their new lives as celebrities. Wanda had just moved to America, Steve came from the 1940's, and poor Vision was only a few months old. Vision had access to all of the knowledge of the internet, but having an actual person to help him learn people skills was far better than just expecting him to figure it out on his own. I doubted Steve needed much help from me, considering how close he and Mr. Wilson were, but you never know. And Wanda... I wanted to be able to help her, to befriend her and find out what tragedy had made her so withdrawn, but I was unsure of how to go about it.
Despite the fact that the agreement was already mostly satisfactory, there were many forms that needed to be read and signed, and some of the legal terms in my contracts still had to be explained. Also I was technically an employee of Stark Technologies, which meant I had to take a mandatory polygraph. That turned out to be excitingly sci-fi. The thought of a lie detector had always frightened me a little, but the test was mostly just to ensure I had no connections to Hydra. Which didn't bother me at all. I was more than happy to declare that I would rather die than join a Nazi group.
After all of that was over, Mr. Stark let Steve borrow a car to drive me by and pick up some things from my apartment. I had been wearing hospital gowns, the same outfit washed multiple times, and borrowed clothes since the accident, and it was a relief to at least have a suitcase to live out of until I could move in. I quickly selected toiletries and a small range of clothes. I decided I'd need professional attire, some athletic wear, one nice dress, a few band tees and shorts, and of course, my most comfortable pajamas. How I'd missed those pajamas! I found a t shirt I'd almost forgotten I had - a black one with a large Captain America shield emblazoned on the front. I balled it up nervously and stuffed it in the very back of my shirt drawer, making a mental note to burn it later.
I was a little bit ashamed of Steve having to see the inside of my dingy apartment and sit on my awful second-hand couch, but I comforted myself with the reminder that he had grown up as a poor boy in 1930's Brooklyn, and also, he really wasn't the judgmental type. Seeing someone else in my living room for the first time, I realized that it was about as homey as a cactus. I had no plants, no pets, no pictures, barely anything more than the necessities. This apartment was nothing but a place to eat and sleep. And considering the rent I paid I should have enjoyed it a lot more.
With my suitcase in hand and the contents of my refrigerator disposed of, we left my apartment and I locked the door behind us. I felt so different than I had the last time I stood there. Hope. I had hope, and hope makes all the difference in the world.
The drive back was mostly quiet. From Stark Tower we got back on the helicopter and flew back to the Avengers facility. I decided I wouldn't call it home yet. Home means permanence, or at least long-term planning. I refused to set down roots anywhere until I had reason to believe that I would get to stay.
The longest conversation I had with Steve was about music. He told me part of a story about how Mr. Wilson had suggested the Troubleman soundtrack for him when they first met, and that he had played it for him while he was unconscious in a hospital. He also explained why Sam had been teasing him about his running speeds, and what it meant if I ever heard either of them say, "On your left." Other than that we didn't talk much. I wasn't really in the mood for aimless chatting and I didn't want to whine or complain any more.
When we got back I had my first chance to start getting to know Wanda. The first thing I did when we arrived was head to the room and change into some of my own clothes. I was just folding up Natasha's things and wondering where the laundry room was when I heard a knock at the door.
"Y/N?" Wanda called.
I opened it to see her standing there, looking like she was considering whether or not to bolt.
"Can I help you?" I said with a smile.
"Steve said you are going to work for the Avengers?" She said. It wasn't really a question. She already knew the answer. I didn't know what she wanted and I doubted she even knew herself. All I knew was that I recognized the pain in her eyes, that haunting sadness hidden behind a fortress of courage and hard work. Whatever her reasoning, she was reaching out, and I was going to do my level best to make her feel accepted.
"That's right!" I replied brightly, "They said they needed a P.R. girl. Public relations. I'll help them deal with the press, writing out statements, arranging interviews, that sort of thing." I decided complete transparency was probably best when the person you're talking to can read your mind so I added, "To tell you the truth I have no idea what to do. They said they think I can handle it but I'm worried that I can't. All I know is I'll be doing a lot of googling over the next few days."
That earned me a half-smile.
"I could actually use your help Wanda. If you don't mind that is. This place is massive, and I don't know where anything is, or what the rules are, or, well, anything at all really. I'm sure Captain Rogers will be willing to give me a tour of the place but I'd really appreciate a girl's perspective."
She hesitated a minute, then she seemed to make up her mind and said, "I would be happy to help you."
"Great!" I reply, "Maybe you could start by showing me where the laundry room is?"
She nodded and I followed her out the door. And for the first time in a long time I truly hoped that I would be able to make a friend.