Deceitfully Devoted

Chapter 1

"You can't be serious," I huffed, rolling my eyes in annoyance. My disbelief was met with silence as those ocean blue eyes stared back at me apologetically. "Please tell me you're joking, Steve."

"I wish I could, Taylor," Steve sighed, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall in the kitchen. "We need him for this mission. He's our best chance at success."

"You hear yourself, right?" I laughed, shaking my head. "He's going to do what he always does- whatever he wants."

"He's agreed to help us. He understands what will happen if he crosses anyone," Thor declared. "He's changed. He can be trusted."

"Trusted?" I seethed, pulling my eyebrows together as I glared in the god's direction. Crossing my arms, I slowly made my way toward him. "You do remember what he did the last time he was here, right? Or are we just going to overlook the whole world-domination, mind control bullshit?"

"No one's forgotten that, Taylor," Steve said as he stepped into my path, placing his hands gently on my shoulders. "We all remember what he did, what he tried to do, the people he hurt, what he did to you and Barton."

I closed my eyes at the mention of Clint's name. Memories flooded my mind of the times when my actions were not my own. The last thing I need is for the flashbacks to start seeping their way into my waking moments, it's bad enough they already haunt my subconscious at night. I bit my lip, trying to push the images of the things I was forced to do when I was under his control out of my mind. Of all the people to bring in for help on a mission, why did it have to be him?

"If you remember, then why are you bringing him in for this?" I mumbled, meeting Steve's concerned gaze.

"I'm not happy about this decision either," Steve uttered while slowly shaking his head. His hands gently squeezed my shoulders before he lowered his arms. "His abilities are useful for this particular mission. You read the file. You were there. You know what he can do. There's not really a better option."

"There are always better options. We've completed similar missions and done just fine without him," I growled. "We're creative. We'll find a way without him. We don't need him."

"Taylor," Steve said, slowly. He paused before continuing, choosing his next words carefully so as to try to not set me off further. "I can understand why this is upsetting for you. But sometimes we have to-"

"I'm sorry," I interrupted, "I must not remember the time where your mind was taken over by a psycho, power-hungry Norse god. Remind me when that happened again?" Steve opened his mouth to respond. "Oh, that's right. It didn't. Your mind has always been your own. You don't understand, Steve. You never will. So don't stand there and tell me what I'm supposed to feel and what I have to do. I don't have to do a damn thing you tell me. You might be a captain, but I don't take orders from you."

Feeling the tears forming in my eyes from pure frustration, I pushed past him, leaving the kitchen to return to my room. He let out a soft huff as my hand made contact with his torso, shoving him harder than I had intended. I'd be damned if I let these men see me cry. I don't have super strength or speed and I can't summon lightning with a gesture of my arm. I don't need to give them another reason to think of me as weak. I closed the door to my bedroom, resting my head against the wood as I closed my eyes.

A flash of blue light danced over the backs of my eyelids as images of the tall, dark-haired man with a wicked smile pointed the gold scepter in my direction. I instinctively reached my hand to the spot on my chest where the scepter had made contact. Phantom sensations of frigid cold spread out from that spot, cascading over my entire body like an avalanche, just as they had on that day. I tried to slow down my breathing, feeling it increasing rapidly with each reminder of the horrible things I had been forced to do. The haunting feelings of regret were engraved into my memory like ancient carvings on a stone.