I've had a little more time to work on these chapters, so I've been updating a little more. Not saying this will happen a lot, but I'm glad I found the time to do it. Just thought I'd let you know. Okay, so Hannah's misadventures with the Avengers only get better and better, as you'll see in this next chapter. I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE the reviews you all are putting up on the review board. Thank you so much! Keep me updated on what you like, love, and even dislike about this story. All are good to hear!
Plaint White T's. "1, 2, 3, 4." AZLyrics. MUSIXMATCH, n.d. Web. 7 Oct. 2013.
Chapter Ten
"Are you two sure this is safe?" Bruce asked us, worry and skepticism overshadowing his usually calm demeanor.
"Of course. Would I do something dangerous?" Tony asked the scientist with an innocent smile. Bruce raised an eyebrow in response.
"This is going to be sweet." I said with excitement as I looked down the high ramp we had built (Tony built it, but I watched). We teetered the wheelchairs we had found in a storage closet (how anyone ever thought hospital mobile devices were safe in the hands of Tony Stark, I had no idea), and decided to put them to good use. We were about to have the race of the lifetime down the ramp. Whoever won had to do dishes for the whole week.
"I thought this ramp was going to help us with our science experiments." Bruce objected.
"Of course it is." Tony assured him. "We're performing an experiment right now. On law of gravity, to be exact."
"Hey, just because you're weigh more than I do doesn't mean you're going to win." I blurted out and Bruce chuckled, whilst Tony gave me an unimpressed expression at my attempt at humor.
"You are so going to lose." Tony said, looking downward at the ramp.
"Oh, come on, tt's not like it's true, old man." I jeered jokingly.
"Two insults in one day. You're really asking for it." Tony warned.
"I would have thought you were used to these jokes by now." In fact, my little jokes with Tony were giving more enjoyment than anything to the group of Avengers. I was giving the man a run for his money, a long-awaited miracle for the superheroes.
"Don't be calling me old, little lady." He responded. "Steve, by far, outdoes us all in that category."
"Yeah." I agreed with a small laugh. "So are we going to do this or what?"
"On the count of three." Bruce started, although he wasn't very enthusiastic about it. "One, two..."
"THREE!" We yelled in unison and we rushed down the ramp.
I yelled in delight at the top of my lungs as the wheelchair gained momentum down the ramp. Tony was having just as much fun, mostly because Pepper wasn't telling him no. In the past two weeks, Tony and I had set the lab on fire (an accident, I assure you), used Steve's shield as a shelter for paintball (it was the only thing available in the kitchen) and set up water balloon booby traps in my aunt and uncle's bedroom (the next morning I was awoken by a bucket-full of water).
"I'm right on your tail, kid!" Tony yelled, his chair gaining on me. I wasn't about to wash filthy dishes for a week. I leaned in, ready to take the prize.
"Hey! What are you two..." Steve's voice interrupted our joy as he walked into the gym...right in the middle of the path of our wheelchairs.
"Uh oh." I gulped. "Steve, run!" He bolted for safety, barely missing us by inches.
"I won!" I yelled as our wheelchairs slowed down.
"Nu uh!" Tony protested. "I beat you by a mile!"
"Yeah right!" I argued. "Did you see how slow you were going? Grandpa speed if you ask me!"
"What are you two doing?!" Steve interrupted our arguing. "You nearly killed me."
"You shouldn't have come in front of us, Cap." As if Steve could have foreseen us racing wheelchairs down a ramp.
"Wait till I tell Pepper about..."
"Wait, wait, wait. Before you go running off telling everyone about our latest escapade, why don't you try it out yourself?" Tony enticed the good Captain.
"No way." Steve refused.
"Actually, it looked pretty fun from what I could see." Bruce mentioned, climbing down the ramp. "It's pretty safe."
"Pretty safe?" Steve asked skeptically as the looked at the structure.
"99.9% sure." Bruce clarified, nudging his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. There was a twinkle in Steve's eye...was it mischief?
"What do you say, capsicle?" Tony asked, pushing the wheelchair towards him suggestively.
For the next hour, the boys and I were racing wheelchairs down the ramp. And to our disappointment, Steve was winning.
"What's that, five times in a row I've won now?" Steve said triumphantly and we all moaned.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah." I muttered, now very miffed about losing to a ninety year-old man.
"Face it, you're upset that you lost." He had this satisfied smirk on his face that made me roll my eyes.
"I don't have to admit anything." And I wasn't going to. Not at all.
"What are you all doing?!" Pepper's voice sliced through the air, making us freeze like we were all kids that just got our hands caught in the cookie jar. Uh oh.
"Well, I think I'd better be going." Bruce laughed nervously, quickly retreating from the scene.
"Ummm...actually, I forgot. I've got to help him erm...do that thing...that thing ummm...something." Steve dashed out, me right on his heels. I forgot I didn't even have an excuse.
"And I have to help him remember what it is he has to do!" I yelled behind me, leaving Tony alone with his girlfriend. Good luck getting out of that one, Tony.
A Few Days Later...
I had been up on the roof of Stark Tower for a while; two hours to be exact. It was late evening, the sun sinking below the horizon slowly. To reminisce on the wheelchair fiasco a few days ago...well...it was a fiasco. Uncle Clint laughed uncontrollably while Aunt Nat and Pepper were none too pleased. They started talking about it being a dangerous stunt and all that. You know, the stuff parents do to their kids when they do something stupid.
"You could have died!" Pepper screeched at me and the others.
"Dear, I think you're over-exaggerating." Tony pointed out.
"Maybe not have died, but you could have broken your necks!" Aunt Nat said. "Hannah, I expected you at least to have some more common sense."
"Nat, don't you think you're overreacting just a tad?" Uncle Clint asked. "I've done a lot worse in the time we've been together." She flashed her 'don't argue with me' face and, fearing her wrath, he backed down.
"We were just racing some wheelchairs." I mumbled.
"Down a nearly twenty foot ramp. Imagine if it had busted or you couldn't stop the wheelchair and it rammed into the wall or hit someone or..."
Bruce stopped Aunt Nat there.
"Actually, given the height of the ramp and the length of the distance from it to the wall, it is nearly impossible for the wheelchair not to stop by the time they reached the wall." She gave him the same glare that she gave to Uncle Clint. So much for logical reasoning winning out for me here.
"You know what I mean." She told him.
We had somehow managed to escape some sort of grounding or punishment. Uncle Clint had taken me aside later and was laughing and joking with me about it, asking if I beat them all out. Of course, I lied and said I did. Cap shouldn't get all the glory.
I laughed later when I thought of what Dad would have said at what I had done. He would have thought it hysterical, just like his brother. And of course, Mom would have been livid.
"It's dangerous." I imagined would be her words. "Don't you ever do something like that again." And then I'd see the worry in her soft eyes replaced with relief that I was okay. Just like Aunt Nat's.
I allowed my thoughts to drift back and forth between the two couples; how they were alike and how they were different. Dad and Uncle Clint were about the same with their laid-back personalities. However, Aunt Nat was far more assertive when it came to comparing her and Mom. And truthfully, I kind of liked it (but I'd never tell her that). It made her and Uncle Clint fit well together. A great team. Just like Mom and Dad.
What if they were my new replacement parents? What if they could be...?
"No." I responded aloud. Not now. Now when losing Dad was still fresh in my mind. I couldn't just abandon my father, or the thoughts of my mother. It would be like I had forgotten them. I felt ashamed for even thinking about it.
I had brought up my guitar to play, yet it had sat on the sidelines the whole time. Maybe now was time, a moment to forget the deep thoughts penetrating my emotions.
There's only
ONE thing (one)
TWO do (two)
THREE words (three)
FOUR you... (four)
(I love you) I love you
There's only
ONE way (one)
TWO say (two)
Those THREE words (three)
And that's what I'll do... (four)
(I love you) I love you (Plain White T's).
"Wow, you're pretty good." I nearly jumped out of my skin as Steve joined me on the rooftop, interrupting the harmonic notes of the guitar.
"Oh, sorry." He apologized, rubbing the back of my neck with an embarrassed smile.
"It's alright." I patted a spot beside me, retiring the guitar to where it had been for the past few hours. I wanted the company. I was quickly finding out that I didn't like being alone.
Once he had sat down, he asked, "So, what have you been doing up here? You've been gone awhile."
"You noticed?"
"Of course. You were a little...off today." There was a moment of silence before I spoke. Today hadn't been the greatest of days. I kept thinking of my parents, and this was just another moment today that I couldn't get them out of my mind.
"Just thinking...about my parents." I looked out to the horizon with sadness.
"Oh." He said softly. "I'm..."
"You don't have to say you're sorry." I cut him off, though not harshly. I looked at him and explained, "There's nothing to be sorry about."
"You lost your parents. It's okay to be sad." I breathed in deeply, holding back a few tears.
"It's alright." I said.
"I lost my parents too when I was your age." He told me.
"What?"
"I was an orphan just like you. Mom and Dad died before I went into the army."
"I'm sorry."
"It's alright." He assured me. "But it still hurts to think of them." He paused for a moment, contemplating on something before he went on. "I remember feeling so alone. I felt like I had no one." He then turned to me. "But I had a good friend to help me through it. His name was Bucky. He was my best friend until he died."
"What?"
"He died right in front of me. He fell to his death." Steve shifted his gaze to the floor now.
"I...I don't know what to say." I admitted and he looked at me once more, placing a hand gently on my shoulder.
"Your friendship is enough."
"So is yours." I said, a small smile perking on my lips.
"And if you ever need anything, know that I'm here to talk to you."
"Thanks." I said, wiping a small tear from my eye.
"Hey, what do ya say we go grab something to eat? My treat." He offered . I gladly took that offer and we spent the rest of the night with the gang, enjoying the warm company of friends. It was far better than sitting on that cold, lonely rooftop.
So...Hannah's feelings about her parents and her aunt and uncle...what do you think?