A Little Fate (LokixReader) {COMPLETE}

Chapter Eighteen

(A/N: I know this is a much longer chapter, and that there's no picture, but at least I got a post up! Thanks so much for all the votes! It means so much to me!)

You crashed on your bed, Leo instantly jumping off your shoulders. It was too much. Much too much. The heartbreak from the memory re-broke your heart, and you still haven't even thought about Clint, or the team.

Oh god.

You almost killed him! You and the damn universe.

Why? Why did you have to drag the entire world down with you? Why does everyone you care about have to endure your curse? You shouldn't even be living here! They never even wanted you, or your problems!

They'll probably kick you out now. Send you off to somewhere with a death sentence. The universe obviously wanted you dead anyways, with how much it tries to kill you. To make your life utterly miserable.

Not ten minutes into your sulking, there was a knock at the door.

You don't answer. You don't want to have to face anybody, especially if they were going to kick you out. That was the only plausible course of action now. You almost killed Clint! Let alone you don't even know what you can do yet.

"Hey Leprechaun! You left pretty quickly. Everything alright?" The unmistakable voice called from the door. No. You were NOT alright. Your entire world was crumbling. You killed your parents. You almost killed Clint, as well as every other person who has crossed your path. You've made the team's lives a living nightmare!

"Hello? If you don't answer, I'm coming in." He said again, more concerned. Why couldn't Tony just leave you alone? Didn't he hate you? "Y/N?"

The door slowly opened, light being shone all over your room. And onto your disheveled mess as well. You hadn't even realized the extent of the state you were in.

You could see the gears in Tony's brain working overtime, as he tried to come up with the right approach. He was the snarky genius, not the gentle sympathizer.

"Everything okay?" Obviously, it was not. But where else was he supposed to start?

"I'm fine."

"You are not fine. What's wrong? If it's about what happened earlier, we don't blame you." He insisted, coming into the room. He sat on one of the bean bag chairs from earlier.

"Why? I almost killed Clint. He could've died, Tony. Everyone I ever meet is in danger. If not, they're already dead. That thing with the chandelier? Or during last night? What if I hadn't taken the precautions? What if I never learned how to prevent the absolute worst outcomes? What if I slip up, and end up killing someone? What then? Will you still insist on my innocence?"

"It's not your fault. No one blames you. You haven't slipped up. The 'what ifs' haven't happened. You made sure they didn't. You're a he-"

"I. Am. Not. A. Hero." You interrupt, "I'm an over-glorified freak at best."

"So is everybody on the team. None of us are normal. None of us could have a different life if we wanted to. But we chose to become the people we are today. Not the freaks, the people. Who we are. And if I'm not wrong, you chose that life too."

You remain silent, thinking over his words. The team really was a steaming crock-pot of oddities, weren't they?

"So, I'll see you at dinner? The assassins are cooking up something spicy." He asked, standing up. It seemed he finally received your signal to be left alone. "Alright. Good talk. If you need anything, make sure to ask." He said, finally leaving you to be.