A/N: Sorry for disappearing again! This is a pretty long chapter, so hope it makes up for that break. I've taken to writing on my phone so it might take longer to post new chapters now.
Thank you for all the marvelous (hehe, marvel-ous) support! I couldn't do this without you guys!
Once again, I open my eyes in a white-walled room. "Not again," I groan, remembering the events of last night. Though I'm not sure if it's even last night anymore. It could have been days ago.
Rogers comes in the room. It's almost like a total replay of my first night here. I groan and lean back on my bed.
"How are you?" he asks, sitting on the chair ever so casually placed next to my bed. I have no doubt he was there before I woke up.
How do you think I feel? I want to ask. "Fine, fine," I say, waving my hand. "Just annoyed I'm back in here right after I left," I say quietly.
"You'll be out here soon. It wasn't that bad," he says. Apparently his hearing is much better than other people's. Wonderful. Now I can't even talk to myself.
There's a silence as what we both know is the next topic is not breached. I'm not willing to ask and know the truth and he's not willing to become the bearer of bath news. We're at a stalemate.
"So..." I begin, knowing that it's got to come at some point. Just at that moment, the door opens and Romanoff comes in. Saved, I think.
"You're needed for a meeting, she says.
Rogers gets up and I wave bye at him. "You're coming too," she adds, seeing my lack of movement.
"Me?" I ask. I look down to my obvious cast and point at it questioningly.
"Get the crutches," she says, as if it's an obvious thing to do.
Five minutes later, I'm led into a room, without much expectation. Honestly, I'm tired of these interviews. How much do they need to know before they take action? At first, I was so relieved that they were willing to hear what I had to say, but now I'm just tired. And disappointed. And all the other negative feelings you can feel for a secret undercover agency.
What has become of my life.
The door is opened one more time. Then I get the surprise of my life.
Seated around the table are none other than the Avengers. As soon as I enter the room, I stop and stars openmouthed at them. This is a big leap from giving interviews.
"Take a seat," the Director says. I silently follow his orders. Right now, I don't even know what's going on, especially why they're here. What plans and developments have been made since I've been dismissed. But since I don't want to ask, I'll just sit and wait. Sometime sooner, I'll pick up enough information to deduce what's happening.
"Nice to meet you," a person who I recognize as Bruce Banner says. I manage to mutter my greetings in return. My mouth is dry and I'm having trouble breathing. It's not me to be this nervous, but this isn't exactly an everyday situation.
Without warning, Fury starts a long directive. "You've been gathered here because we've been infiltrated." Well, now I know why they're here. "Our goal is to take them down before they take us down." And now I know our goal as well. How lucky of me to find out the two most important pieces of information within the first minute. Although, what else would you expect from a no-nonsense leader. "All the information we've gathered thus far is on the files you've been given."
As one, they look at the screens in front of them. I lean over to see Roger's screen, the one closest to me. I almost fall off my seat when I see what's written on it. They've already gathered profiles, locations, security numbers. Much more than I acquired in years. For the first time since I've arrived, I'm impressed.
"Here's the plan," he continues. What follows is an unstoppable torrent of plans and military jargon that I can't possibly understand. After the first five minutes, I give up even trying. Instead, I lean back and observe all these people. Who knew that I would ever meet them.
The civilians – which is what I have termed Stark and Banner – are jotting notes down, Banner much more than Stark, who sporadically goofs off on his screen. The agents, on the other hand, are all listening attentively and even giving suggestions. I notice the lack of the big muscular guy who people claim came from outer space. I don't believe those rumors for a second.
I'm broken out of my reverie by the mention of my name. I look to see Clint Barton and Fury locked in a discussion... about me.
"It's not our protocol to bring the informer with us," Clint states.
"This isn't a normal situation. There is too much information to go there without the informer. We need her to tell us as events unfold." Fury says.
"Wait, since when have we started using child soldiers? I thought we were at least above that," Bruce interjects.
"You just stay there and follow orders, doctor," Fury replies.
"I'm not going to sit here and watch you violate international laws," he replies.
Now they're having a fight because of me. This has just made my day.
"Um..." I begin. No one listens as their voices get louder. "Excuse me," I try again. They don't even look in my direction. I groan and take out my gun. I check to see the lock is still on and then slam it on the table. That gets their attention.
"Hi." I say, thinking of nothing else to say. "Uh, so..." I thought I had a better plan than this. I clap my hands as I have an idea. "How about I stay in the plane? I'll get a good view and still be near the scene." I smile as I'm proud of my idea.
"You don't give orders," Fury says as he glares at me.
"No, that's a good idea," Romanoff says. After a little discussion that's much quieter than the first, it's settled: it's happening my way. And now I don't know what I've gotten myself into.