Chosen

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Two: Not This Again

"It is hard for me to be vulnerable, because I never learned how to do that. I was never vulnerable in a safe way." -Tucker Max.

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 Happy pulls up to the front of the building. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass as snowflakes melt on top. The heater is on full blast as we are no longer on the warmer west coast. Happy was nice enough to pick us up a few coats since we now do not own any. With the bright purple puffer jacket on, I look like a walking grape. Where I look like a grape, Tony looks like a blueberry.

 "I'm sorry, I was hired as security, not as your personal shopper," Happy shakes his hands before he puts the car in park.

 "I'm just saying you've known me for over twenty years and when have I ever worn neon blue?" Tony asks.

 "You didn't give me much of a notice! I just grabbed nine of the first ones I saw. They looked warm so they met the criteria," Happy retorts with a scoff.

 "I mean, look at Brucey here," Tony motions to Bruce who sits next to me, "Why should one of the most intelligent scientists look like a walking traffic cone?"

 "I gave you options of colors," Happy exasperates, "Next time you can give me a heads up and maybe exact styles."

 "Next time I'm sending with you a stylist," Tony states as he opens his door.

 The group of us follows and get out of the car. We are met by everyone who traveled in the second car, all also have colorful thick coats on. We look like a gang of children's characters as we walk into the front doors.

 The once buzzing S.H.I.E.L.D. Headquarters is now a ghost of a building. The expansive lobby is completely silent; only the sound of our footsteps is audible as it echoes off of the high ceilings and walls. It feels unnerving as the main operation of such an agency that is usually more than crowded is now ridden of almost all life.

 The group of is met by two large security guards dressed in the standard black suits. They stop us and ask to see our badges. My mom, Alex, Thor, and Bucky do not have badges and are not identified as cleared guests in the system. One of the men steps aside to ask for special clearance. He comes back a second later and nods. We have to go through an expansive amount of security protocols before we are granted permission to go down below the ground level.

 "What level are we supposed to go to again?" Captain Rogers asks as we all step in the elevator.

 "Press the star three times then show your badge," The one security guard tells him.

 Steve does as he is told so. The automated voice welcomes Captain Rogers and the elevator begins to move downwards. The glass elevator passes down the dark shoot; an occasional light will pass at an interval. It takes only half of a minute until the box slows and comes to a complete stop. The doors slide open and all of us file out. We're met by another security guard who has to identify us again.

 "Sorry about all the security," Director Coulson apologizes as we all walk in to the room, "With all these bombings we have to be extra cautious and secure."

 "I would be concerned if you weren't," Steve steps forward and shakes Phil's hand, "Director."

 "I'm glad you all made it in one piece," Director Coulson acknowledges us, "I'm terribly sorry about your loss, though."

 "Thank you," My mom replies as I nod solemnly.

 "Are you sure we are safe here?" Natasha inquires.