Disclaimer: I don't own the Avengers. I do own Lily. She's cute.


Day 7

That morning, I didn't really wake up. I hadn't exactly been asleep. My head was just sort of in a sleep-like daze that didn't really add up to much of anything. Oh well.

I showered, and even sang a few songs, knowing that Tony wasn't upstairs. Headquarters would most definitely feel empty today without Tony's cheeky comments, Natasha's relentless workouts, and -of course- Steve's swag.

I didn't even qualify as a barista today, considering that my only customer drank tea. This also meant that I was alone with Bruce. All day.

For some reason that I refused to address, every time I thought about Bruce, my face got hot. The back of neck got itchy. My tongue swelled just a little. I silently told myself that it was hormones and got out of the shower to work on my hair.

Oh god. It's gone.

I searched the floor, the cabinets, the walls. Even under my bed.

Where the hell was my straightener? I couldn't survive without it. I could very well keel over any minute now.

Phil, have you seen my flat iron?

I started shaking in anticipation.

No, but Natasha made a stop at your room before we left. Mean anything?

I started shaking harder.

Natasha, have you seen my flat iron?

The reply came a bit faster than I would've expected.

Yeah, I took it actually.

Why?

Needed it for disguise;).

I considered typing something nasty back, but I stopped myself. She even texted a winky face. Assassins don't do that.

I sighed and picked up my hairbrush. At least she let me keep that.

The tangles were out and I was left with a puffy mess. It reminded me of the days before I had styling tools and had to brave the world with my out-of-control hair.

Phil stopped me from just shaving it all off more than once. I was tempted to go for it this morning, until I read over Natasha's text again.

Embrace your curls. Natasha found a way to love hers. Maybe I could do it.

I looked in the mirror. No I couldn't.


Only got one customer today, and he drinks tea. Are you okay with your hair?

Way to remind me that I'd be spending the one day my hair goes insane with Bruce. This beats being watched officiating a broccoli wedding.

I'm not okay.

Figured that much.

I made my way down to the kitchen faster than ever before. The insecurities were staggering. I ran my fingers through my hair near every 20 seconds.

When I got to the kitchen, those smart people already knew that I only needed one meal today. With a green tea bag in hot water, I slowly made it to the elevator. I didn't want to do this. Not at all.

I knocked on the door before coming in, even if it was made of glass.

"Good morning, Lily," he smiled and took his breakfast and tea.

"Good morning," I smiled back. He hadn't said anything yet, but I knew he was laughing on the inside. My hair looked horrible, and it was the only thing I could think about. I stared out the window behind his workspace and watched a couple clouds float by.

"They just got to Germany a few minutes ago," he said.

"It took them that long?"

"Yeah, they had some 'problems' along the way."

I would easily say that said problems were caused by Tony. He's the kind of guy that would hop out of a plane and harass a few birds.

"So do they know where he is?" I asked somewhat suddenly.

He turned towards me and moved to the window. "Not exactly, but I think they know where he's headed. "

"They said that he could… change people with the scepter, right?" I said weakly.

He nodded.

"Couldn't he get at them?" I started worrying hardcore. We couldn't handle him having someone as swaggalicious as Steve on his side. We'd be screwed.

"Well, I don't think Steve or Natasha would let him get anywhere close enough to their chests for that, and considering that Tony has that metal abdomen…" he trailed off.

"Oh," I said. I felt stupid now.

"It's still scary that he can do that to the normal people, though."

"God, we couldn't lock him up then, could we? He'd have so many people to break him out," I was getting more worried by the minute.

"He couldn't get out of that cell," he said in a quiet, yet surprisingly angry voice.

"Where is it anyway?" I asked gently.

"Just look down there." He pointed to the inner ship.

I did as told and saw a big circle. Not too much was visible, but it didn't look easy to get into.

"How old is it? I mean, they only knew he was coming a couple of days ago."

"It's pretty old. They built it for me, actually." He laughed in an oddly pissed off way.

I almost stepped back. "What?"

"The other guy," he said so quietly.

"Oh," I'd forgotten, again. "But they didn't need it. I guess."

He just smiled weakly.

"You seem like you have it under control- I mean, not to assume or-,"

"Yeah, he stays in there," he was so obviously uncomfortable. It hurt him.

I thought about changing the subject, but Phil did it for me.

"Wow," Phil said in disbelief, "I don't remember your hair being that curly," he said with a smile. I spun around.

And all of the insecurities return. "Yeah, I'm sure you don't."

"Was it Natasha?"

"Yeah, you were right." This was just getting progressively more embarrassing.

"At least you're not crying or anything. I thought you'd have a breakdown."

And all the insecurities are tripled.

"I'm fine."

"Good. See you two," he walked back out.

Bruce was staring. I could feel it. Now I felt like having a breakdown.

I sat on the table and picked at an open folder instead. Everything was coming back at me. All the names, all the times I got my hair pulled. I felt a tear roll down my cheek before I could feel anything else.

I wiped it away and thanked goodness that Bruce wasn't turned towards me anymore.

I don't cry in front of people. I cry when I'm in the shower, or some locked room, and it's never over something as trivial as hair.

The file was boring as hell. I read through it three times and it still wasn't another half an hour until lunch.

I walked over to the second slidey computer and read over the tesseract stats until I was bored of that, too. I sighed lightly.

"For the record," Bruce said suddenly, "I really like your hair curly." I turned around to see what could possibly be the sweetest expression I'd ever witnessed. "Mine is the same way, sometimes."

I didn't say anything. I didn't need to. That comment just made me entirely too happy.

Finally, I mustered up a few words, "Did you get teased for it?" I smiled.

"Ugh, all the time. I even shaved it off once."

I laughed, "Phil stopped me from doing that a few times."

"I just learned to live with it after a while, ya know? I got to the point where I just decided that there was nothing wrong with it."

Maybe there wasn't anything wrong with it. Maybe my hair was perfectly fine.

While I chewed on my food for thought, I realized that Bruce needed real food.

"I'll go get lunch," I mumbled.


"So, how'd you and Phil get so close?" Bruce asked suddenly. His salad was almost finished, but he stayed at the table.

The question sort of caught me off guard. "Well, I didn't exactly have great parents."

He mouthed an "O". "Sorry for asking."

"No, it's fine. They didn't beat me or anything, they just weren't around a lot," I slowly rekindled the conversation.

"So Phil stepped in?"

"More or less. He was better at parenting than they were, so I turned out alright, I guess," I smiled a little.

"Do you still talk to them?" he looked so concerned.

"I haven't seen my dad in forever and my mom since high school graduation. So, no," I didn't feel bad about it either. They didn't deserve any of me.

"Does she have curly hair?" he smiled through his last bite of food.

"Ha, no, no one else in the family. That was probably why my dad didn't treat me like much of anything. He thought that my mom had been sleeping around because no one in either family had curly hair."

"That's stupid."

"He was a stupid man," I grumbled.

"That's why you're insecure about it, isn't it?" he squinted a little bit and stood up.

"I don't know, maybe," the thought was a bit puzzling.

There were many things factoring into the fact that my parents didn't want me. Drugs were a big fat one.

My hair did sort of remind me that maybe I was some bastard child. Lord knows my mom isn't trustworthy. I don't know if she really cheated on her husband, but it wouldn't surprise me if she did. And my dad's eyes were brown, if I remembered correctly. Mom's were green, like mine. So the chances of my legitimacy were pretty slim.

I read over a few more files and went over a few more stats. I was trying not to think of what an emotional rollercoaster today had been. And I knew that if Loki came back, every other day would be comparable.

A look at my phone told me that it was already time for dinner. Here we go.

"I'm gonna go get dinner," I said with a stretch.

"Go for it."

I made my way down the hallway without touching my hair. Bruce's words did have an effect, I'd noticed. There wasn't anything wrong with having curly hair, and it was sad that it took me this long to figure it out.

A dinner and water were laid out in the counter, as they always were. A grumble from my stomach told me that I needed something as well. A peanut butter protein shake was calling my name.


"Mmmm, I forgot to tell you about Steve's pop culture dilemma," I laughed between sips.

"I bet he has a lot of those," Bruce smiled widely.

"Someone told him that he had 'swag', and he thought they were insulting him," I smiled.

"Aw, poor guy. He's so lost here,"

"Yeah, he tries though."

We're all lost here.

Natasha belongs in Russia, Tony belongs in his tower-fortress, Steve belongs in World War II, Bruce belongs in India. I didn't exactly have too much of a place to belong, but I figured it wouldn't be here.

"It's a place for amazing people," to quote Phil, the first time I asked him where he worked. And now, I was finding out the extent of amazing.

The sky outside darkened just a little. With my lack of sleep, I felt my eyelids get heavy. Then my face just sort of fell on the table.


Night 7

A gentle hand pushed on my shoulder. I moved my head and saw that it was Bruce. I sat up, and instantly noticed that I was in the lab. How long had I been sleeping?

"What time is it?" I yawned.

"It's about time for you to tell me to go to sleep," he smiled.

I looked down. There was a pillow where my head was.

"Where did the pillow come from?"

"I couldn't help it. You looked uncomfortable," he said with a sheepish smile.

Oh. My. God.

He didn't just get me a pillow and put it under my head while I was asleep. That's impossible.

"Thanks," I said, still knee-deep in disbelief. My cheeks were getting hot again.

"It's not a problem," he turned back to the computer to shut it down. "They got Loki while you were sleeping."

My cheeks went un-hot. "I guess that's a good thing," I mumbled.

"It's definitely better than him being on the streets," he mumbled back, "Am I leaving you in here?" he asked with his hand on the light switch and a little grin.

I grabbed the pillow and made my way out the door without blushing. New feat.

"Fury said that you have to bring him food," he mumbled once we were in the elevator.

"He already told you?"

"Nah, I asked."

I ignored the insane sweetness of that statement and pressed on. "How do I do it?"

"Loki stays on his bed; you put the tray on the floor."

"Couldn't he just kill me the second I stepped in?"

"They're stripping him of his magic, so he couldn't zap you, and if he tries to… hurt you physically, there are at least 20 guards in the room," he swallowed.

"That's a comfort," I felt a little round of tears coming on, but I blinked them away.

He saw them, like he sees everything. The elevator dinged.

"Hey, don't worry," he wrapped an arm around my shoulder. "I'll keep watch on the security cameras if you'd like." Arm on shoulder. Does not compute.

"Okay," was all I could get out without my voice cracking.

"Goodnight, Lily," he said softly. I handed him his pillow, which he took with a grin.

"Goodnight," I turned my key and stepped inside.

My head was a whirlwind of every emotion known to man. I was scared to freaking death of Loki. Bringing him meals three times a day chilled me to the bone. He could kill me so easily, regardless of security.

But at the same time, Bruce would be watching, so I'd be okay. He got me a pillow for crying out loud. And I knew that he'd go ape (or green, more appropriately) if I got hurt.

There was something in my mind that needed cleared up, before it tortured me any longer.

I had a crush on Bruce. And I didn't exactly mind my curly hair anymore.

Screw hormones.