Hello again! Another short chapter coming up! Sorry about that ^^ Hope you like it anyway.

I don't own the Avengers, only Emma and the alterations made to the original story.

Lying in Bed All Day

Seventeenth day

Usually I wake up earlier than my father but today when I finally open my eyes, I'm alone in our room. I check the time on my phone, 12.30PM. That's probably the latest I've ever been up. I sigh; what happened yesterday? Why am I so tired?

I frown confused for a second before it all comes rushing back to me. Phil's dead, Thor and Bruce are gone, Loki escaped. I groan, I wish yesterday had never happened. I lay back down on my bed and pull the covers over me. This is not something I want to wake up to.

I just want to lie here in my bed and hopefully forget what happened. This proves to be harder than I want it to be though. Angrily, I punch the bed. Why can't I forget it?! I don't want to remember!

I don't want to remember the fact that Phil Coulson, Agent Phil Coulson, is dead. A man I respected and liked. And I especially don't want to remember the fact that he was killed by Loki. A man I recently came to like and kind of trust. How screwed up is this?! I don't want to do this anymore.

I don't understand how the man I came to like, the man who told me stories, who laughed and smiled at me, is the same man who killed so many people. How could he do this? I honestly thought he had changed. Maybe that was stupid of me, it probably was. And I know we had that fight two days ago, but still! Somewhere in my heart I still believed him.

Stupid stupid me! I turn around so my face is buried in the pillow. Now look what that trust has brought me; a broken heart.

It doesn't make things better that I shouldn't have a broken heart in the first place, 'cause I shouldn't like Loki. I shouldn't be in love with him, if that's what I am anyway. I shouldn't feel anything for him, except hate and maybe pity. But I do, and I just can't seem to make it stop. I want it to stop! And at the same time I don't want it to stop. Because I do like him, and I want him to come back to me. But it's just so confusing, because I shouldn't want that at all.

Why don't I learn from my mistakes? Stop liking him, Emma! He's not good for you!

I am so angry at him, but at the same time I can't be angry at him. He killed a good person and he's killed many others. He thinks he's superior to the people on this planet. But he also thinks of himself as a monster. He knows he's doing the wrong things. For a second I swear he was changing. But I guess not. Because now he's killing people again. People I like.

How can I like a man like that?! Of course I can't. I shouldn't.

Then why am I?

I groan angrily and bury my head in the pillow. I don't know. I just want to forget everything. 'Cause I don't know what to do or feel anymore. It's too confusing.

It's almost half past one when my father returns to the room with a tray of food. He places the food on the table next to my bed, and stands next to it, like he isn't sure how to approach me.

He touches my head softly, petting my hair. "I brought you food, Emma," he says.

I lift my head slightly to answer, "I'm not hungry." With that I bury my head in the pillow again.

I can imagine my dad frowning, in fact I can almost see it. But he seems to let it go after a minute or two.

"So, darling, are you going to make us dinner today?" my father asks gently. What do you think, Dad, I think sarcastically.

But my only response is to bury my head further down in the pillow, and shake my head slightly. I hear my father sigh disappointed.

"We really like your cooking, Emma sweetie, and I know you love to cook. Are you sure you don't want to? What if I help you?"

I lift my head slightly to glare at him. "I'm not cooking, and I'm not leaving this room." With that I bury my head again, and this time I also spread my blanket over my head, so that I am completely buried.

I hear him sighing again, he's still just standing there next to my bed looking at me. But then I hear him walk slowly towards the exit, like he's expecting me to call him back or something, and then he leaves.

About an hour later, when it's almost 14.30PM, the door to our room opens again. I haven't moved since my father left. To be honest I don't really feel like doing anything, I just want to lie here and soak in my misery.

Without lifting my head I say, "Go away, Dad, I'm not changing my mind."

The steps ignore me and move up next to me. "I'm not your dad, and I won't go away." I sigh. So my father's gotten Steve in on it now.

"Go away, Steve, I don't want to talk," I say, still with my head buried in the pillow.

"Not going to work, Emma," he says in a gentle voice.

I sigh and turn around so I can face him. "What do you want, Steve?"

He smiles at me, probably happy that he at least managed to get me to talk. "I just want to talk with you."

"What if I don't want to talk?" I ask, not in the mood at all.

"Well, Emma, we're worried about you. And since Tony couldn't get you talking, I figured I'd try." He smiles, "So I'd really appreciate you talking, so I can win over your father."

I almost smile back, but hold it back. "I don't really feel like talking, Steve."

"And I understand that. Are you sad about Bruce and Thor? Because they're fine, we're going to see them again, don't worry about that."

I shake my head slightly, as much as I can lying down. "It's not about them."

He sighs. "Coulson, then? I know it's hard to lose someone. We just have to remember that he did what he thought was right; he sacrificed himself for what he believed in. That's admirable. He wouldn't want you to be sad about it, he would want you to stand up and keep moving forward, that's the kind of man he was."

Slowly tears start dripping from my eyes.

Steve frowns. "It's not about him either, is it? You're sad about Loki."

I sniffle. "It's about both of them."

"Well, um, I don't know how to help you with that. I don't really miss him myself, and he is trying to enslave the human race, so I don't think you should either. But I know you have come to like him, and it's okay to be sad, Emma. I don't know exactly what you're feeling for him, but you're allowed to be sad." He sighs, "I think, though, that it would be best if you could forget about him, because I don't think it's going to be a happy ending."

The tears are dripping faster now. "I know, Steve, I'm trying." I shake my head to try and clear my mind. "I don't want to talk about it anymore."

"I understand," he says gently and pats my shoulder. I appreciate that he's not judging or anything, he's simply speaking his mind. He stands and lets himself out.

I sigh and turn around again. I know they're all trying to understand, and they're just worried. But I would rather just forget all about it. I hope no one else is going to bother me today, I'm not hungry anyway. I can just lie here all day, maybe I'll even fall asleep.

"I'm not going, Dad! How many times do I have to tell you?" I yell at my father.

He looks at Steve, who is standing next to him. "That's the thing, darling; you don't get to make that choice. You are going to come with us to eat dinner, and you are going to be happy about it." With that he yanks the blanket off of me, and tries to get me to stand.

"I don't want to go! Let go of me!" I scream. I'm pissed at him right now, and I'm certainly going to make it difficult for him. Seems like my plan of staying in bed all day isn't going to work out.

I accidently kick his arm in an attempt to make him let go. He grunts, but doesn't let go. And now Steve steps in to help my father. Like I have a chance against him!

"Come on up, Emma, you're behaving like a child," he says in a stern voice.

I turn my glare to him. "I am a child, and you can't force me to go. I have rights, you know!"

He chuckles grimly. "You're telling Captain America about your rights? Good call, Emma." I roll my eyes, and finally let them hoist me up.

"Come on, sweetie, we're just going to have a family dinner. You don't have to cook, but we would really like your company," my father says persuading.

I let them push me towards the door, before I march angrily down the hallway towards the dining room. When we reach the room I sit down angrily at my chair with my arms crossed and without looking at anyone.

I only look up again when my father places a plate in front of me. He sits down next to me with a plate of his own. "Emma, will you please just smile for me?" he says gently.

I shake my head, I don't have it in me to smile. Between Loki leaving and him killing Phil, I don't really feel like smiling. I feel too betrayed for that.

He sighs. "Will you at least eat something?" I can hear the concern in his voice, and decides to give him that. I didn't mean for him to worry or become sad. So I start eating slowly.

One after one the others sit down too with a plate of food, and start eating. I finally notice a new face next to Natasha, and realize that that must be Clint Barton. I faintly remember him from the files from so many days ago.

He notices me looking at him, and smiles hesitantly. I smile back, but I'm not quite sure my smile reaches my eyes. In fact, I'm pretty sure it doesn't. I guess that wasn't what my father wanted when he asked me to smile.

After finishing eating, Clint stands and walks over to me. He extends his hand to me, "I'm Clint Barton. It's nice meeting you," he says.

I shake his hand. "Emma Antoinette Stark, and it's nice meeting you, too." I don't bother smiling, 'cause if he really has eyes like a hawk he will see right through it anyway.

"How are you feeling, Emma?" my father asks gently, after Clint sits back down.

"I'm fine," I mumble. I don't know why I even bother, everyone can see I'm not fine.

I notice him looking around at the others, before talking again. "I've been thinking," he says and I can tell I won't like it, "maybe I should bring you home. It's clearly too much for you here."

I snap my head up to look him in the eyes. "I'm staying," I answer, and there's no hesitation to find in my voice. It's not up for debate.

"Okay then. But sweetie, then I really need you to cheer up a bit. I can't have you doing nothing and moping all day, it's ruining my mood," he practically whines. But I know he's teasing, at least some of it is tease.

I contemplate what to say for a moment. I think of how I have to stay here, I have to see Loki at least one more time, and I want to see Bruce and Thor again, too. I can go back to being happy, maybe I've moped around enough. It is kind of tiring, actually, it's much nicer to be happy and talk to the others. And then I grin slightly. "Okay, wouldn't want you to lose your happiness." He smiles relieved at me.

"Thank you," I say, really meaning it. And it's for everything; for letting me come with him, meeting Loki, cheering me up when I'm down, comforting me, and getting me to stop moping just now.

Well, I'm not completely satisfied with this chapter, but I've tried rewriting it and it didn't get any better, so there you have it. Let me know what you guys think. Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed, favourited or followed ^^ So happy that people seem to like my story. See you again next monday with chapter 18 ;)