A/N:
Thank you for you positive reactions, encouragement, and reviews.
Disclaimer:I don't own The Avengers or Twilight. I do own this storyline and plot. Anyways, Happy readings!
"Charlie, I'm here to see Bella." The familiar velvety voice says.
'Oh, hell, what is he doing here?' I think, annoyance bubbling.
"She doesn't want to see you." He snaps back.
"I know. Please, I just want to speak to her." He begs.
'Well, I don't want to see him. Ever.' I think vehemently.
I can almost see my father's face turning purple as they argue back and forth. I should put an end to this before Edward unintentionally kills my father. No need to tempt fate... I feel a flicker of annoyance as I silently make my way over to them, trying not to scowl as I see him.
"He's right, Edward. I don't want to see you. You need to leave." I say, unblinkingly.
"Bella, please. If you just let me explain—" he begins.
Explain? He did a lot of explaining in the woods. What more does he want to explain? How I'm just another distraction to him? How I'm fragile? No, thank you I heard enough. Even I have enough common sense to realize when I am not wanted.
"Is there a problem here?" Another familiar voice called.
'He's here.' I sighed, relieved, as I pushed past him.
I looked towards the direction of where I heard the voice come from, just to the left of our yard, stood the familiar tall figure of my older brother.
Clint.
"Hawk," I say, a wide smile spreading on my face as I ran down the front steps across the lawn and into his waiting arms.
"Eyas." He greets back, hugging me tightly.
You might be wondering why he's called me Eyas, well it means baby bird or baby hawk. Since I am his little sister, and his known alias is Hawk-Eye, well it is easy to realize where the name comes from.
See, my older brother, who happens to be fifteen years older than I am, has always been a constant in my life even when my parents weren't, he has always stuck by my side. No matter what.
That is until he joined the military or so I was told...until recently. Now, I only get to see him through Skype and video calls a few times a year or during holidays.
I'm always missing him terribly when he's gone. It's a constant worry in the back of my mind.
"Is there a problem here?" He asks, cautiously patting my shoulder, to bring me out of my reverie.
"No, he was just leaving," I state tensely, as I tap his forearm silently.
He showed me Morse Code a while back, so he's asking other questions along with the verbal ones, I can hardly keep up.
Since there are too many questions I've chosen to ignore them, for now, until we're far enough from Forks, Washington to speak.
The eye roll I received from Clint, tells me he knows something is up and makes me want to smack his doubtful expression, and knowing gaze.
"Bella, please," Edward begged, turning towards me.
"No. You said you were leaving. So leave." I respond, over my shoulder.
The sound of someone else's arrival causes us all to turn, quick enough to give us whiplash, well at least me.
There standing before us, is a redheaded woman. Though I notice she isn't alone. I, however, don't get to ask who they are since right as I am about to ask Clint something, she decides to speak.
My wonder grows as she does. Who is she, and is her hair naturally that lovely shade of red?
"Sorry, we were late to the party, Barton. Is this her?" The woman asks, stopping to stand near Clint.
Her? Do they know about me? Just how much do they know?
I look behind her and see three other men standing next to her. Though I can't help but take in what they are all wearing as I look at them. Why do they seem familiar?
She's in skin-tight, black pants, with dark brown, knee-high boots. Her dark red hair hits just below the small of her back. She looks to be the same height as I yet looks to be a few years older too. Her stature holds no stiffness, but her expression says she's ready if need be.
Alongside her are three men. All three of these men tower me, so much so, it's almost comical.
One of them has a mohawk, dark blonde hair with weird designs on the sides, he is holding an umbrella in one of his hands.
'That guy seems to be prepared for rain. Not that it's a surprise, judging by where we are.' I think, amused as my eyes shift to look next to him.
The next guy is slightly shorter, yet super muscular, has a pair of light blue friendly eyes, and has cropped short honey blonde hair.
' Hm. He seems to be clean-cut.' I note, dully. 'Wait, a guy with familiar umbrella. Guy with friendly blue eyes and blonde hair. Woman with red hair... Where have I seen them before?'
I have to blink a few times before I take a look at all of them. Then it clicks. They're-they're the— Holy shit!
Can it be? Are they who I think they are?
"Eyas, baby sis?" Clint says, smirking as he gains my attention, as he elbows me in the ribs lightly.
I turn to look at him sharply, before leaning closer to him. "I thought you'd be coming alone. Why did you bring the platoon?" I whispered to him.
"We were on our way home... from an assignment," he explains, awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Right. Assignment." I mutter, looking down at my watch before I wonder where they all were since they don't seem tired.
"Are you going to talk to the boy over there?" One of them asked, curiously.
He's tall as the rest of them, but his hair is unkempt, and he appears to need caffeine from how tired he looks, he also has a neat goatee growing on his chin.
He looks unkempt but his clothes reek of wealth. Even if he does dress like a wealthy teenager.
"No," I say, stubbornly. "We already said everything we needed to say when we spoke earlier," I add, turning away from them to look back at the front porch.
"You heard her, son. It's time for you to go." Charlie says, jutting his head to the side.
Edward nods his head in understanding before he walks towards the curb, and gets into his silver Volvo.
"Bell..was that..?" Clint asks.
"I'll explain later," I whisper, looking into his blue eyes as well.
Of all the things he could've gotten, he got the blue eyes my mother has. My eyes used to be a dark dull brown, yet now they seem to be a light hazel color almost as if turning green. I had to keep buying contacts so nobody noticed the changes.
"Let's take this inside, shall we? I feel like we're being watched." The woman says.
Funny thing is, so do I, and though I have a feeling as to who it might be, I don't verbalize my suspicions as we all nod before trudging across the front lawn and into my dad's house.