Chapter Twenty-Five
Rosie:
"Morning, all," I said with all the cheer I could muster as I made my way into the spacious kitchen. Most of the Avengers were sitting around the rectangular table, going about their usual early morning business.
"Morning, Rosie," Pepper said cheerily, flipping through a newspaper, still wrapped up in her pink and purple bathrobe.
"Mooorning," Clint said through a mouthful of toast, drawing out the word like a little kid.
"Good morning, Rosie," Jarvis said politely from overhead.
"Good morning, daughter of Stark!" Thor boomed, wolfing down a pop tart as politely as he could. Natasha was the only one who blatantly ignored me. But I barely even noticed as I took a seat next to a certain solider.
"Morning, Rose," Steve said, a faint smile etched upon his features as I lowered myself into the chair beside him. I tried to keep the blush from rising to my cheeks, the events from last night still running through my mind. I had to make a conscious effort to keep from glancing at his mouth.
"Morning," I said, not expecting my voice to sound as strong as it did. I nodded my head at the jug at the end of the table. "Pass the juice?"
He obliged with a, "Sure," his long arms reaching across the table to grab the orange juice, which was hands-down probably my favorite beverage. I glanced across the table.
"Tony and Bruce?" I questioned, looking at Pepper and Natasha. One of them would know where the science bros were. Pepper motioned to the basement with a jerk of her thumb.
"Still in the workshop," she answered. "They went down there last night and haven't been up since."
I raised both eyebrows. "They spend a lot of time down there, don't they?" I remarked. Pepper nodded, ad I could tell that fact frustrated her a lot.
"They spend days down there sometimes," she said, and sighed, giving the newspaper a good flourish. "I'll never understand."
I bit the inside of my cheek, suddenly feeling a twinge of sadness for the red-haired woman that sat across from me. Pepper and Tony clearly loved each other deeply, but the fact was that Tony didn't know how to communicate his feelings seemed to but a wedge in their relationship. And it was no surprise that he turned to his work to distract him when he felt stressed or nervous. I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. It was no surprise that I—the illegitimate, former gangster, level seven daughter—was the main cause of his stress right now. I was the reason for the strain on his and Pepper's relationship.
I opened my mouth to offer my apologies, but all of our attention was turned elsewhere as Jarvis spoke from overhead. "Miss Potts," he said politely but urgently. "I highly suggest you turn on the television. It's rather important. Channel seven news," he advised as Pepper snatched up the remote. The flat screen television burst to life, displaying a stern brunette woman on the screen.
"Furthermore, there's interesting news in the world of the Avengers," the reporter said. "Just a few weeks ago, the Avengers once again took on a threat in New York City. But instead of more aliens, it was an escapee of S.H.I.E.L.D.. The battle didn't last more than a day, and thankfully, with no fatalities. But it has just been released to us that the girl who terrorized New York," an image of me flashed across the screen. "Isn't just an escaped level seven, but also the daughter of the Iron Man himself, Tony Stark."
The color drained from my face. My stomach did somersaults. I suddenly felt very, very sick. How had they found that out? Who had released this to the press? My eyes were firmly glued to the screen as the brunette reporter appeared again.
At least they hadn't found out my—
"The girl's identity is confirmed to be Roslyn Carter-Simon, otherwise known as Rosie Simon, adopted daughter of the late S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Roth Simon," the reporter said. Shit. "It is unknown to us if Stark will accept her as his own or place the girl back into S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody, due to her unique abilities displayed in New York." Footage of Natasha and I fighting came onto the screen. The darkness was flowing out of my body into an agent. I was horrifying. "We are requesting a quote from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Nicholas Fury, as well as an interview with Mister Stark. More on this story as it develops," the reporter finished with a curt nod. Her face faded into a Olive Garden commercial, signaling that her airtime was over. I sank back into the seat, wishing I could just disappear.
"How did they find that out?" I heard myself whisper. No one could say anything—let alone take another breath—before heavy footsteps thudded up the basement stairs quickly. Tony appeared in the doorway, Bruce following closely at his heels.
"Did Jarvis—"
"We just saw it," Natasha said, probably the calmest out of all of us. Her blue eyes were composed, controlled. Tony opened his mouth, but the agent cut him off before he could say a word. "You knew this would happen, Tony, we all did. A girl like her," she nodded in my direction. "With the powers she has? She's a level seven. We knew the press would do a fierce background check on her, try and dig up as much as they could. It doesn't surprise me the slightest they figured out that you were her father so quickly. And with you being the Iron Man, there was no way we could keep this under wraps."
All of our eyes turned to Tony. He was silent, just staring at Natasha with a blank, dazed expression. I couldn't blame him. I felt exactly the same way. The whole world knew about me now, that I was the daughter of Tony Stark, the daughter of the Iron Man himself. If danger didn't surround me before, it most certainly did now. Not only did random people all across the world know who I was, but his enemies, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies. I could be seen as leverage, as a sort of ransom.
I placed my head in my hands. This week was going from bad to worse. A run in with my former gang two days ago, now the entire world knew I was Tony's daughter… What next? A meteor strike? "What are we doing to do?" I asked aloud, more to myself than anyone else. "The entire world knows…"
I saw Steve's hands twitch beside me, and I could tell that he wanted to offer me some form of comfort. I wanted to be back in his arms again, a place where I truly felt safe. I wanted to curl into his chest, feel his strong hands rub up and down my back soothingly, have him tell me again that I was, "One hundred percent good," but this time in a whisper. But Tony was here, and would no doubt hesitate to throw him through the window if Steve so much as looked at me in a comforting way.
"We fought off an alien invasion," Clint was the first one to break the silence, chiming from the corner with a shrug. "I'm sure we can handle a couple of news broadcasters."
"But everyone knows now," I found myself saying, burying my face further into my hands. "Tony's enemies, S.H.I.E.L.D.'s enemies, the Avengers' enemies… The list could go on."
"And your little gangster friends," Natasha said coldly. Of course she would be the one to bring that up. Pepper turned, glaring at the other woman for her comment.
"I think she has enough to worry about right now," Pepper chided icily. The two redhead women glared at each other, and I was honestly expecting to see a bickering match between the two. But apparently, I didn't have enough to worry about, and fate decided to really give me a scare.
A screeching, metallic sound pierced through the air. We all gave a collective yell, covering our ears in one fluid movement. My eyes snapped to the television screen, which had gone to what I would've thought was a hazard signal, if it wasn't for the black symbol in the center. Two black swords, interlocking with each other, surrounded by ancient runes. I'd never seen a symbol like it before.
Then, before I could try and figure out what the runes could mean, the screeching sound was gone. I uncovered my ears hesitantly as the hazard screen changed. There was now a man, tall, tan, with a black head of hair and thick, long beard. Dark sunglasses obscured his eyes. He was walking in a circle of men, whose heads were covered by thick hoods, their hands bound behind them. A chill shuddered my body as I realized what it was.
An execution ring.
"Some people call me a terrorist," a voice said, and I knew it had the be the man with the beard. The television showed him walked amongst men—men with guns—whose weapons were all set on the hostages. The man raised his hand, and I knew what the signal meant. I let out a cry of shock as guns went off. The hostages tumbled to the ground. They'd murdered them, for all the world to see.
"I consider myself a teacher."
The crowd of people watching cheered as the man made his way into the shadows. The screen flashed to a little toddler waving a cowboy hat, then to two rich women smiling brightly. Then, the White House, the very emblem of our country's strength.
"America," the man's word was practically a growl. A dark, menacing growl. The camera fixed on the man with the beard, who was now speaking directly to the viewers. "Are you ready for a lesson? "
"In 1864, in Sand Creek, Colorado, the U.S. military waited until the IM braves had all gone out hunting." The screen flickered with Native American faces. "So they could slaughter the families left behind." Another chill shot up my spine. "And claim their land."
Who was this man? Was this some sort of sick opening to a television show?
"Thirty-nine hours ago, the Ali Al-Salam air base in Kuwait was attacked." I gasped as a burning city was displayed on the screen, engulfed in smoke an flames. "I did that," the man said, looking rather pleased with himself. "A quaint military church filled with wives and children, of course." His mouth twisted into a sadistic smile. "The soldiers were out on maneuvers. The braves were away."
This was no opening to a television show. This was an attack. This man, whoever he was, was some sort of terrorist.
The screen went white, followed by an image of our president. "President Ellis…" Another image of our president. An oil mill. Burning bodies. I wanted it to stop, but I found that I couldn't look away. "You continue to ignore my attempts to educate you, sir. And now, you've missed me again." Terrorists. Guns. Evil smiles. "You know who I am. You don't know where I am." The terrorist came onto the screen again, staring directly into all of our souls.
"And you will never see me coming."
Everything turned to chaos. Terrorists running. Police shooting at the sky. A nuclear explosion. Then, the symbol with the runes again. And then it all went black.
Sorry I've been so bad at updating! I've been out and about this summer, but I promise I haven't forgotten about this story! The Mandarin has just been introduced, which means things are about to get very ugly for Rosie and the Avengers! Speaking of introducing, I'm working on another Avengers story right now, because writing one just wasn't enough for my crazy mind. It's called Mirage, and I should have up the first chapter within the next couple of days, so go check it out! Thank you to all those who review/favorite/follow this story, and please keep doing so because I truly appreciate it! Love y'all, until next time!
-Charlotte
In response to reviews…
ReadPaxJoy—Lol, I had so much fun with that part! I honestly thought about having him Hulk out but then I thought that might be a bit overdramatic of him :3 But imagine if Tony came up instead of Bruce! Good lord, what has Steve gotten himself into? Haha. I'm so happy you like my fluffiness between them! And he was pretty smooth wasn't he? Such a ladies man… Thank you for reviewing!:)