It was an average day for New York, which meant the traffic wasn't going to move anywhere anytime soon. The effects of careful attitudes and high-strung demeanors gave way to the looming sense of claustrophobia and restlessness. Clint was fidgeting against the wall for seemingly no reason, Tony had tried several times (and failed) to inconspicuously look for leftover coffee in the various fallen and unwashed mugs, Logan looked like…well, he looked like he wanted to stab something, but that was just Logan. Steve had originally scanned for seatbelts, but quickly realized that with the seats ripped out there was nowhere to attach the seat belts to-except for the back row. Thor and Loki were sitting there, although neither looked that comfortable. Natasha seemed the only one at peace. She rested against the car side, eyes closed but doubtless not close to sleeping. Her cold gaze slid open and stared back at him, and he held the distinct feeling of watching a snake in a basket- at some point, it would lose patience, and then, it would strike. Her eyes closed, and the feeling left...for the most part.
But Nat's not like that, his thoughts countered. Not to us.
"Aw, man," Clint groaned. "I did it the wrong way." The back of his shirt now emitted an arrow, albeit tip up. "Nat, help me with this, would you?"
"With pleasure."
"New technique?" Steve asked. He leaned closer in his folded-legs position. There was an awkward pause that shouldn't have existed.
"Uh, yeah." Clint scratched the back of his head. "I guess it's a bit too new for me." He tried to look behind him, but Nat shooed his head back.
Steve never fully understood Clint's relationship with Nat-or rather, Clint at all. He'd tried to talk to him, ask little things, and Clint would push it away whenever it got too personal, although friendly enough beforehand. He supposed it was due to Clint's agent side. He wondered if that would happen to him if he hung around Natasha-and SHIELD, for that matter-too long.
Probably not. Unlike Natasha and Clint, he had no secrets to hide.
Steve thought about random stuff like this while Nat fixed Clint's gear and Tony sharpied his initials to the side of the car. It was hours before they actually got anywhere.
When they did, Steve had dozed off. It was Stark who woke him up. He stared up at him dubiously. "I hope you didn't add a moustache to my face while I slept." Tony grinned. "It didn't even cross my mind." He looked slightly disappointed not having thought of the idea.
Coulson got out of the car, then opened the door, letting the moon be their sole remaining light source. "Alright. Get inside, then we can talk and rest. Some of us might need to take watches."
"On to it." Steve didn't know how long he'd slept, but judging by the sky, it would be enough to last him the rest of the night if he needed to. Everything was in shades of dark crisp night, and the small estate they'd parked by seemed more haunted than hiding. It was out in the country, sole house for miles. They had traveled far upstate.
One by one the agent, Avengers, and Logan-and Loki-went inside, checking their borders warily.
"Isn't the car a giveaway?" Tony stopped at the door, the last one to come in. He looked back, gesturing. "I can't-" he stopped. The car was gone, replaced by a massive clump.
"I tarped it. It's going to be hard to find if they go looking tonight."
"One night is all we need?"
"One night's enough to leave them off our trail. If we kept on driving we'd run out of gas." Coulson paused. "If you're worried, though, I have a friend who'll pick it up. They plan to swing by once we're gone."
Tony said something. It was hard to hear. "What?"
"I said, they better come in a strawberry truck." When getting no response, Tony half-falteringly continued, although in the same tone of voice. "My dad. Liked. He liked strawberries and got them for my mom. So they should come in a strawberry truck."
Coulson looked at Tony, glasses off. "Thanks." He ushered Tony inside. "They'll come by in a nondescript white food truck. I can't tell them to change anything now."
Inside was darker. What the moon reflected through the windows only cast long spindling shadows-through doors, past corners, over furniture. Tony whistled. "We haven't come here in a long time." Coulson pulled up a rug that led to a door almost seamlessly combined with the floor. The door when opened triggered some kind of stepladder to fall in place, as they would soon find. But for now it was the darkest thing in the room, like a solid square of black.
"You want us to go down."
"You need to go down." They went down, Natasha first, and so they found the ladder. Logan went down next, then Thor, with Loki, then Steve, then Clint. Then Tony.
Coulson came down last, making sure the rug would be in place before he closed the door behind him. There was a handle on the inside, unlike the smooth space in the room that he'd had to pry open.
"There's not much here," Natasha noted when he came down. "Tony, I haven't walked that far around here, but your dad seems to have cleaned this placed up pretty well." When Tony didn't answer, Coulson told everyone to get some sleep. It was useless to try to walk around in darkness.
"Steve, there doesn't need to be a watch," he said, a few minutes later. There was slight shuffling, and Steve went to sleep. Everyone went to sleep.
Or at least, they tried. It was harder for some than others.
Thank you so much for reading and the reviews. I hope you've enjoyed the story, or at least what's happened so far of it.