A/N
Warning! Agents of SHIELD spoilers in the last paragraph or so.
Chapter 11
The plane ride was fairly uneventful, save for a scream – probably Bruce fixing Steve – and a higher pitched hiss – definitely Natasha's shoulder being popped into place. Flying a jet was a bit harder than flying a suit, of course, but I got the hang of it pretty quickly.
The lights of the massive Hellicarrier eventually come into view.. They aren't expecting us – they stopped expecting us four years ago – but the glance that Clint and I share clearly says we need to show up, gatecrashers or not.
"Unidentified aircraft, you have entered restricted airspace. State your purpose or leave immediately."
I sigh. Gatecrashers it is.
"Agent Hill, this is Hawkeye. We need to land and quickly."
"Barton? What are you doing?"
"I have Beta, Widow, Iron Man, Captain America, Banner, and Thor on board and we need to land immediately. It's a matter of national security."
"Barton, leaving your quiver in the vents is not a matter of national security. We have been over this. Put your copilot on, please."
I smirk into my microphone. "Agent Hill, this is Iron Beta speaking."
"Beta? What the heck are you doing?"
"Flying a Quinjet for the first time. Haven't crashed yet. But I suggest you listen to my pilot and let us land. It really is a matter of security, Hill, please trust me."
The radios fall silent for a moment as she sighs. "What, exactly, is the issue?"
Clint speaks up in a deadpan tone. "The Avengers have been in a prison for the past three days because S.H.I.E.L.D. has HYDRA moles. Do not let Agent Pierce out of your sight. The agency is in peril, and we can stop it if you let us land. The sooner the better."
Silence for a second.
"Hawkeye, Beta, this is bridge. Permission to land granted. Get in here now!" she orders.
I cheer. "Aye, aye Hill!"
Clint informs our teammates of our landing as I double check the control panel. "All systems are a go."
"Good. Everyone is heading to the medical bay once we land, okay?"
"Fine." I whine. "Can we just land?"
Clint nods and we gently angle the plane downwards, landing with a slight bounce among the hustle and bustle of the flight deck.
I power down the plane while Clint goes to make sure everyone can get off and to arrange for med teams if necessary. I unstrap myself, grab my bow case from under the bench in the cabin, and step out onto the tarmac, falling in step with my dad.
The hairs on my non-metal arm and the back of my neck raise as I scan the crowd of agents flowing around us, my right hand subconsciously resting on the handle of the nearest pistol.
My dad sees this and raises an eyebrow. "You okay, Taylor?"
I startle slightly and my grip closes around the gun until I realize what I was doing. "Yeah." I sigh deeply and run a hand through my sweaty hair. "I'm fine."
My dad just hums because he knows that I'm lying but he does the same thing. "Nice work back there, by the way."
I smile. "Thanks. And nice improvising with the crappiest suit ever."
My dad snorts and ruffles my hair. "So how did you like jail?"
This time I snort. "Absolutely wonderful." I drawl. "Really enjoyed myself. Now I know what you feel in the drunk tank."
"That was one time!"
"More like ten." I correct him as the doors to the infirmary swish open.
"Okay!" Clint claps his hands, drawing the attention of the med staff and Avengers alike. "Listen up. The Avengers were just…indisposed…for a few days and we all have a few scrapes, bumps, and bruises. You treated us for two years, you should remember how we operate. Tell us to leave our weapons, we snarl at you. Touch our weapons, you will get hurt. Should any of you forcibly grab at or for our weapons, you will be walking out missing an appendage. We have clearance from Hill to be here, someone should inform her we have landed."
The med staff nods collectively and scurries about, leading Natasha and I to a room and pulling a curtain between us.
I collapse my bow and set my quiver by my leg – I'm not going to make their job that hard – as the nurse turns to me, mentally scanning my ratty brown t-shirt and fraying sweat pants, frowning slightly. "You escaped jail in this?"
I nod silently. The nurse – her name tag reads Michelle - just blinks before instructing me to sit down on the hospital bed and take deep breaths as she presses the stethoscope against my back.
My heart – what little of an actual heart I have left, anyways – and lungs get a clean bill of health, so Michelle informs me that a doctor will be in shortly and leaves.
The doctor is a young, curly haired redhead with bright eyes and an eager smile.
I almost liked her. It almost made me feel bad when she tried to slide the knife out of my boot and I kicked her in the head. Almost.
Thankfully, another, older doctor I recognize hears the thud and sees the redhead snoring on the floor. He sighs. "Sorry about that. Bailey is new and she was in the bathroom during Clint's speech. I'll call in another doctor right away."
I nod and thank him with a smile.
The new doctor is one I vaguely recognize from my misadventures two years ago. She quickly checks me over, avoiding any weapons, before leading me over to another room and explaining that this was where women's clothes were stored in case of emergency.
I nod silently and step inside, grinning as I see Natasha already elbow deep in the racks of clothes.
"Oh hey!" She smiles. "How did it go?"
"I got the green light." I frown and sigh. "Did have to knock out some poor new kid, though. Went for my ankle. Bailey."
Natasha sighs and shakes her head. "They will learn eventually. Now hurry up and choose." She waves at the racks.
I make my way over and start sifting through the black, black, black, and more black. Pattern, anyone?
A~A~A
Eventually I grab clothes I find decent and head to the small bathroom in the back while Natasha locks the doors and vents and changes in the main room.
I had eventually chosen a snug black athletic shirt with dark grey stripes running up the sides, pants like Natasha's, and a shiny new pair of boots with hard toes.
I refit all of my holsters and strap on my quiver and collapsed bow before knocking on the bathroom door. Natasha it's safe to come out, so I walk out and let her survey my outfit. She quickly looks me up and down, nodding once with finality. She's wearing her classic Black Widow cat suit, so somebody must have delivered it.
We quickly reorganize the room and jog out to the main medical waiting room. Everybody, minus my dad, is fully suited up and armed to the teeth. Even my dad has a wicked looking hunting knife on his thigh.
I nod once to Steve to let him know I got cleared and Steve leads us down a few winding hallways to a room labeled Conference Room 5.
He ushers us all inside and closes the door behind us, the lock clicking into place and the windows going dark with a few taps of a keypad.
"So," I lean back in my chair and prop my feet on the table. "What's our plan?"
"I was hoping you would tell us that, Ms. Stark."
I jump and almost fall out of my chair as I spin to face who spoke.
My heart skips a beat or two and my breath freezes in my throat as I find myself a few feet away from a man who had meant so much to me. A man that helped protect my dad from his own chest.
A man whom I had thought was dead.
"Coulson?!"
