Zoë Aetós: Starting & Ending Action
Chapter Seven
Later, Zoë sat in the briefing room near Tony and Steve. They wore numb looks, and she could tell that even Tony was devastated. He always acted against Coulson, but he respected the man. They all did.
Fury was pacing back and forth holding a pile of bloodied trading cards in his hands.
"These… these were in Phil Coulson's jacket." He looked to Steven. "Guess he never did get you to sign them."
He tossed them onto the table, the blood smearing as Steve picked one up.
"We're dead in the air up here," he informed them. "Our communications, location of the cube, Banner, Thor. I got nothing for you. Lost my one good eye. Maybe I had that coming."
Taking a deep breath, he finally confessed to Steve and Tony about something Zoë hadn't even known about. That wasn't surprising, she didn't know a lot of things when it came to Nick Fury.
"Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number though, because I was playing something even risker. There was an idea, Stark knows this, called The Avengers Initiative.
"The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them too, to fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea… in heroes."
With a grunt, Tony stood, storming out of the room. Fury sighed, looking over at Steve.
"Well, it's an old-fashioned notion anyway." As Steve strode out of the room, Zoë looked up at Fury.
"The Avengers? I wasn't invited."
Fury shrugged, "Well, you were busy."
Natasha's voice came over her comms, informing her that Clint was waking. Zoë struggled to her feet and shook her head.
"I'm getting old. Time to retire," she joked. Fury raised an eyebrow.
"You aren't even thirty yet, Aetos. Got a couple more years." She smirked before walking off towards medical. She paused, looking back at Fury.
"I think I'll retire before thirty."
"Doubt it," he said, turning to his crew.
She found Natasha pacing outside the door. The red head stopped when she saw Zoë.
"He's about to wake up," Natasha said. "I figured he'd want to see you first."
"I think he'd want to see both of us."
"Yeah, but you mean more."
With a gentle push, Natasha closed the door behind Zoë. She found Clint trying to awake, his wrists tied down onto the bed.
"Clint," she soothed, running a hand over his forehead. "You're going to be alright."
"You know that?" he groaned. "Is that what you know? I got… I gotta go in through. I gotta flush him out."
Zoë chuckled sadly.
"We don't have that long, it's gonna take time."
"I don't understand," Clint said, opening his eyes to see her. "Have you ever had someone take your brain and play? Pull you out and send something else in? Do you know what it's like to be unmade?" She pulled away from him.
"You know that I do."
He looked away from her, staring up at the ceiling.
"Why am I back? How did you get him out?"
"Cognitive recalibration," Zoë answered. "Tasha hit you really hard in the head."
"Thank you, Tasha," he muttered as Zoë leaned forward to unfasten the restraints. He grabbed her hand as he sat up, staring at her with desperation in his eyes. "Zoë… how many age—"
She was quick to silence him. She pressed her fingers tightly into his wrist, making him gasp instead of finishing his sentence.
"Don't," she warned. "This is Loki, not you. This is monsters and magic and nothing either of us were ever trained for."
"Loki, he got away?"
"Yeah, would you happen to know where?"
The blond shook his head, looking dejected.
"I didn't need to know. I didn't ask. He's gonna make his play soon though. Today."
"Well, you gotta stop him," she murmured.
"With whom?" he asked, running his thumb over the back of her hand.
"I don't know," she shrugged. "Whoever's left."
"Well, if I put an arrow through Loki's eye socket, I'd sleep better I suppose."
"Now you sound like you," she smiled, brushing her lips against his forehead.
Sitting up fully, Clint wrapped his arms around Zoë, bringing her closer to him. She snuggled into his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head.
"I thought I lost you," she whispered. Maybe, it was cliché, but it was the truth. She felt him take a sharp breath.
"I'm so sorry," he muttered into her hair. "I'm so sorry."
They were given a few minutes of peace. A few minutes to just be together after months apart and days of worry. Clint didn't loosen his grip around Zoë as she listened to his heartbeat. It had finally calmed. They were both finally calm…
Until the door swung open, and Clint glanced over to see Steve in full uniform. The Solider did a double take when he saw Zoë wrapped in Clint's arms before shaking his head.
"Time to go," he told them.
"Go where?" Zoë asked.
"I'll tell you on the way. Can you fly one of those jets?"
"I can," Clint spoke up before Zoë could. Steve looked at Zoë who nodded.
"You got a suit?" he asked Clint.
"Yeah."
"Then suit up." Steve left the room, leaving the couple alone.
Clint gently picked up Zoë as he swung his feet over the side of the bed. She smiled when he lightly set her back down on her feet. She was hesitant on her foot; her adrenaline had long worn off.
"Where's my gear?" he asked.
"Follow me, Hawkeye," she teased, leading him out of Medical. He wrapped an arm around her waist as they walked together. For the first time since leaving for Calcutta, Zoë felt complete.
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