𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒑𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓 ✘ 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐀 𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐅𝐅

{3¹⁶} {HABIT}

∆ {3¹⁶} {HABIT} ∆

THE FLIGHT TO Seoul was shorter than Roxi had expected. Then again, Tony had had control of the Quinjet for just over a year, and had free reign over adaptions and renovations on the vehicle. Natasha had taken care of the bullet wound, sewing it shut carefully after cleaning it in their room. They'd left that afternoon, much to the distaste of Cooper and Lila, who'd run out to wave goodbye as the Quinjet took off. Roxi had watched them with a small smile on her face. She was glad they'd grown up in such a stable, quiet environment, and that they didn't have to worry about what she did growing up.

"You need to come and visit more," Clint suggested, following her eyeline to his kids waving happily in the field. He knew she enjoyed the calm environment, away from the business of their lives, and she was gentler, more open around his kids, and it was nice to see a different side of her. Though of course, that attitude could also be due to the increased amount of time she got to spend with Natasha, who also seemed happier than normal.

"You'd probably run out of coffee." Roxi was joking around a little, but her nerves were beginning to rise. She was normally fine with managing any panic, any anxiety she might feel, but with Fury's words still effectively echoing in her ears and mind, she was on edge, and had more of a weight resting on her shoulders that she usually would. Behind her, Natasha was checking her guns, and every time she clipped one of her magazines into place, Roxi would flinch slightly, even though she knew exactly what was happening. 

She turned from the quinjet, planning to do the same as Natasha, when Clint held out her quarterstaff, in its retracted form. Roxi hadn't even noticed she didn't have it, which was unusual for her as well. But, she guessed, when your mind gets virtually scrambled by a teenager with telepathy, not much stays normal. 

"We had to take it off of you," He explained, noticing her slightly confused look. She nodded slightly, and took the weapon, tossing it up in the air a few times, getting used to the feel of it again after a day and a half without it. The last time it fell into her hand, Roxi turned her wrist over and extended the weapon, only realising that Tony had been standing to her side when he let out a slight yelp and stepped away from her swiftly. A grin grew on Clint's face, just as a smile slid onto Roxi's, both of them looking at Tony, who cleared his throat awkwardly and walked away towards where his suit was resting, in 'sentry' mode. They weren't far from landing when Roxi actually got around to checking her weapons, sitting down next to Natasha, drawing her gun, and begun her inspection. For a short while, the two of them sat in silence, the rumble of the quinjet engine and the others' voices barely penetrating their small bubble of calm. It was simply the clinking of bullet shells and clang of metal on metal as they worked, ensuring that they'd have everything they needed to try and fend off a horde of evil robots. It sounded crazy if you were new to the concept of the Avengers, but no-one in the jet was. Their situation was  very much serious, and they had to treat it as such.

Tony, who'd decided to accompany them for some of the journey before going back to the Avengers Tower where he'd work with Bruce, stepped into his suit, bid them 'adieu' and flew out of the lowering ramp, which Roxi had to close again, since she was the closest, with a grumble of discontent at being disturbed from her fleeting moments of peace. The plan was for Clint and Roxi to stay in the Quinjet for backup, based on the theory that her powers would work over a distance, and Steve would keep Ultron busy while Natasha got the cradle out safely.

Roxi was slightly worried about Natasha being alone, and had privately disagreed with the plan in her mind. There was no point in raising an argument, and she could take care of herself. So, Roxi had resigned to the plan, quietly protesting in the corner of her mind that was still relatively rational when they were about to go into a battle.