𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐈𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐓 | ʏᴇʟᴇɴᴀ ʙᴇʟᴏᴠᴀ x ᴏᴄ

𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN:

I land down and the helmet pops off of me. It only takes a short glance around the room for me to know where I was. 

"Natasha backwards is ah Satan for a reason." I mutter. The room had posters of cars and motorbikes. A calendar sat on the desk next to the small bed. One of the dates outlined in a red marker pen. A fencing jacket with the name S H A W on the back of the desk chair looks older than I remembered. The bag holding the foil that I'd saved a lot of my money as a kid up for. Seventeen year old me handing out papers on main street until I could afford one of them was pretty funny to look back on, now. I step closer to the desk and look over at the calendar again.

In the same red pen, in my old, messy handwriting was written- FENCING TOURNAMENT [FINAL]

It was the same tournament that Maria Hill had found me at, and I'd won. But my dad hadn't come to watch me, and he didn't care if I'd won, either. I smile around the room at the nostalgic memories I had from the place. Right up until I heard it. Shouting. I open my old bedroom door quietly and walk out as I hear it continue.

Mom and dad shouting at each other wasn't uncommon. They'd always find something to get to the other about. When I got a glimpse of them I feel a part of me stop. Dad wore a suit with the top two buttons undone, very much hungover from the night before and mom... mom was just as much of a mess. I watch them shout at each other, saying whatever they wanted at each other. Not that it would matter. It all goes silent suddenly and I only realise what's happened until the helmet pops over my head, taking me back to the present day. 

I land on the podium and the helmet slips off again. Dad had slapped mom. And I never had seen it happen before. It had never been mentioned before when I'd lived with them. And here I was. I watch the floor for a moment, trying to get my breathing under control. 

I go to stand and I nearly fall back if it wasn't for someone being there. "Woah-" Yelena catches me and helps me stand up. "Hey, you okay?" She furrows her eyebrows at me, hand on my cheek.

"I uh-" Was all that came out of me. 

"Hey-" Natasha walks up and looks over and see's the state I'm in. "It was a bad idea. I know- I regretted it." 

"I'm fine." I insist, starting to walk down the staircase. "It works, Stark." I say, walking towards him, not daring to look over at Nat or Yelena. 

↠

"Okay, so the 'how' works. Now we gotta figure out the when and the where." Steve says, turning to us all crowded in one of the rooms. "Almost all of us has had an encounter with at least on of the six infinity stones." 

"Or, substitute the word encounter for damn well near been killed by one of the six infinity stones." Tony adds.

"I haven't." Scott says. "I don't even know what the hell you're all talking about." 

"Well, listen up." I tell him. "You're in for a ride." 

"Regardless, we only have enough Pym Particles for one round trip each, and these stones have been in a lot of different places throughout history." Bruce says.

"Our history." Tony says. "So, not a lot of convenient spots to just drop in." 

"Which means we have to pick our targets." I hear Clint say from the door.

"Correct." Tony says.

"Let's start with the Aether." Steve says. "Thor, what do you know?" We all turn to Thor who was sat in an armchair in the corner of the room with his sunglasses on, very quiet.