I gazed into Charles' now less worried eyes.

"Evelyn, what are you doing here?" Charles asked, his hand cupping my face.

"We came to get you and Hank," I said.

"We?" repeated Charles. "Who's 'we'?"

"Agent Barton," I began. Hawkeye walked over calmly and stiffly, his face blank beneath his shades.

"They've offered me a position," I explained. "I'm going to be an Avenger," I whispered for the crowd still looked on and I really didn't need more media attention.

"An Avenger?" asked Charles in disbelief.

I shushed him, telling him to keep his voice down.

"Evelyn, that's wonderful," Charles said pulling me in for another hug. "You'll be saving people like you did today?" he asked.

"Yes, just like today but all over the world," I said with a smile. "I've always wanted to travel."

"Why've you come here, then?" Hank asked. He had kneeled down to join in on our conversation.

"Barton and I are taking you back home on the Avengers' private jet," I whispered excitedly.

"That sounds better than this," decided Hank, grabbing his bag. "Ready, Charles?

"Yes, please get us out of here," he agreed. "It's too damn hot with all these people."

Barton nodded and led the way.

The people parted once more and let us through with ease.

Barton pushed open the airport doors as people continued to film us on their phones. We walked up the ramp of the Quinjet and it shut behind us.

I took my seat next to the window. Fury leaned out of the cockpit and watched Charles and Hank find their seats.

The director then stood, walking back towards us.

"Charles Xavier?" Fury asked, stopping at Charles' seat. Hank shifted nervously behind me.

"Yes, sir?" responded Charles. He was always so polite.

"I'm Director Fury," he said, extending his hand. They shook. "I suppose Eve told you she's been offered a position at S.H.I.E.L.D.?"

"An Avenger," stated Charles. There was a proud tone to his voice.

"Yes, well, after seeing her skill today in New York, I would be a fool not to at least offer her a position on our team." The director turned to Hank.

"You must be Hank," began Fury.

"Yes, Hank McCoy," he said. The director shook his hand.

"Forgive me," started Fury. "I just want to get a few things straight. It is my understanding that you are mutants?"

"Yes," I said.

"Right . . . So, you can fly," stated Fury.

I nodded.

"You," the director turned to Hank. "are blue . . . sometimes, according to our records."

"Yes, but I also am a scientist," countered Hank. "And a mechanic of some things. Mostly aviation."

"Write that down, Barton," mumbled Fury. He picked his chin in thought and turned to Charles. "You?"

"In addition to being a professor at school for mutant students, I am a telepath," said Charles. He wasn't usually comfortable talking to strangers about his abilities so his willingness surprised me.

"That too," mumbled Fury to Barton once more.

"So a telepath? Can you hear my thoughts?" asked Fury, skeptical.

The director jumped back suddenly. Charles had probably said "yes" within his head.

"Okay, well, with all that settled," said Fury, visibly shaken from Charles. "Fasten your seat belts. Next stop: the School for Gifted Youngsters."

The jet took off from the airport in a similar fashion that a helicopter would.

I watched out the window as people stared. A news van was arriving at the airport. They were probably here because the "angel of New York" had been spotted here.

Charles smiled at me, taking my hand. He turned over my palm in his, looking at all the neat white scars from the battle that had been healed thanks to Cas.

I clicked on the jet's mini TV. Sure enough, my reunion with Charles filmed from a mobile phone was on almost every news channel.

"That doesn't matter," he said, referring to all the publicity. "What matters is that you're safe."

Yeah well, I thought. "Safe" isn't really in the job description of an Avenger.

We arrived back at the school faster than any car ride home.

I have to travel by private jet more often, I thought.

Charles must have "heard" and laughed. Hank looked up from his reading for a moment and smirked. He had no idea what we were saying.

I grabbed my backpack and helped Charles from his seat and into his chair.

"You're getting rather strong, Eve," Charles laughed. I was now able to lift him into his chair with ease.

"Yeah well, gym class, I guess," I laughed shortly. "I dominate at capture the flag."

"I'm sure you do," commented Fury, climbing out of the cockpit. He oddly wasn't being sarcastic. For once in his life, perhaps Fury was actually fearful. I mean, Charles, Hank, and I are "dangers to society" according to the news outlets reporting on mutants.

Fury was obviously respectful of mutants because he had offered me a job, but that doesn't mean that respect comes with a cautious fear.

A few teachers had wandered outside from the sound of the jet landing as Charles, Hank, and I stepped out and down the ramp.

The staff greeted us kindly. I knew they had heard about what had gone on in the city and a wave of relief seemed to wash over them as our faces appeared from out of the Quinjet.

Students would be arriving tomorrow. The day after that, classes officially started.

I breathed in the familiar smell of the school grounds. It never ceased to relax me.

Hoisting my bag onto my shoulder I walked inside the castle like building. It smelled freshly cleaned yet old at the same time.

The stairs creaked as I raced upstairs to my room. It was the same as how I'd left it this morning, bed unmade and all.

I tossed my bag off to the side and threw myself down on the bed.

I didn't know whether I wanted to cry or laugh or scream or do all three. I flung open my laptop and frantically began looking at my social media.

As expected, I had over a thousand notifications from my new fans accumulated today's events. Most were thank you's or interview offers. I deleted most of them.

Until one message caught my eye. "From Addison Tyler," I read aloud. Mrs. Tyler; the little girl's mother! I was so thankful Laura was safe.

I immediately wrote back saying that I was just there to help and I'm glad their story had a happy ending.

Charles appeared in my doorway and knocked. He was now in his spare wheelchair as the other one was crushed in the trunk of the car in New York.

"Everything all right?" he asked.

I sighed. "I guess so," I said. "It's just today's been crazy."

Charles chuckled. "It sure has." He paused, thinking. "How about to get your mind off of it all we can go grab a bite, then maybe get some binders and such for the coming days?"

I nodded shutting my laptop.

But deep down I knew I was no longer able to go out in public without being recognized, recorded, or fawned over.