Holy WOW…it's been a while, hasn't it buddies? Okay then, so, I'M BACK PEEPS! A lot has been going on, including the making of a short film that is taking up an INSANE amount of time… But it's a ton of fun! I've been writing a LONG way ahead recently so I'll start up my regular updates again. (Yippy! Writing outlet!) Oh, Aaaaand…. Guess who recently became a Deadpool fan? Meeeeeee!
Random fact of the day: I was nearly hit by a car yesterday. NOW YOU KNOW.
Also, I do NOT own the Avengers. If I did I would not be writing FANfiction!
Love ya'll…and PLEEEEEASE review! I won't write if there's no one to write FOR! Come on, you're all writers, you know how it is. So, PLEEEEEEASE? I've got two more stories (Kyla included in them, thanks very much ;P ) and It would be a shame if readers started dropping off now. Thanks for reading!
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Kyla must have blacked out from exhaustion rather than fallen sleep, because the first thing she noticed when her puffy eyes opened was that Natasha had entered the room. If she had only been asleep even Natasha's quiet footsteps would have woken her. Even so, Kyla's primary concern wasn't her lack of sleep but concealing her red eyes and the deep rings beneath them. She didn't need news that the new recruit had spent the night in tears to get around to the rest of the Avengers, whoever they were.
Natasha was sitting with her back to Kyla facing Clint's bed and sitting in a chair. The two of them were talking in low tones, the kind used by parents talking about "grown-up things" near children. Kyla let out a yawn and Clint looked over.
"Hey, look who's up."
Natasha turned around in her seat and watched Kyla stretch her arms and sit up in her bed. Something about the Black Widow's gaze confirmed something Kyla had already guessed at; she and Clint had been talking about her.
"Morning…" Kyla said groggily as she rubbed her eyes. She could see Clint much more clearly now that the lights were on. She was pleased to find that he looked considerably less dead. His skin had taken up a much more healthy looking hue and the cuts and bruises had either been treated or covered by bandages. His leg was propped up on a pillow and his arm was in a brace, nursing his injured shoulder. He didn't look good enough to run a marathon, but Kyla was happy to see improvement.
"How are you?" She asked him anyway, wanting to hear it from him.
"Fine. Sore as Hell but the pain meds did the trick." He smiled at Natasha who frowned.
"They're also making you a bit on the giddy side. Maybe I should leave you kids to yourselves for a while…" There was a distinct air of coldness to her words that Kyla couldn't pin to any one thing. Had she done something wrong? Natasha stood up to go but Clint stopped her, reaching out and grabbing her hand with his good arm.
"Oh come on Nat, don't be a stick in the mud."
She glared at him, returning to her seat. Kyla was a little off-put by their relationship. It was clear that Natasha really wanted to be there when Clint was hurt, but now that he was up and talking she wanted nothing more than to get away. Was she making Widow uncomfortable?
"I have to go and find Mr. Fury. I kind of cut him off yesterday…" Kyla said, getting to her feet and heading for the door. She would leave these two alone for the time being. Natasha scared the hell out of her.
"It was nice meeting you." Natasha said after her, though there was a distinct lack of sincerity in her words. Just as she was leaving the room, Clint chimed in.
"Don't call him 'Mr. Fury'…It's 'Fury', 'Director', or nothing."