Away We Go. (Avengers Fan Fiction)

Chapter 17

*Not much action in this chapter, it is more of a filler! I'm so sorry for the long wait, but when I originally planned to update, my friend went and broke my computer. I've had to depend on the library for my daily dose of the internet, and to upload my stories. The next chapter will most likely have more action and a few new characters... :3 Thank you for being so patient and I hope you enjoy!*

Iron Man’s a.k.a. Tony Stark’s P.O.V.

“I picked up an usually large power source, radiating from the center of the desert. I’d only seen it once before,” I muttered, trying to keep the news on the down low. 

“Are you sure it’s him and not some other Asgardian? A friend of Thor’s possibly?” Bruce queried, placing his plate back upon the rack. I mimicked him. I’d lost my appetite too. 

“If it is, then we have to alert Hammer Head. But wouldn’t he know if a friend decided to jump through the space time continuum to pay him a visit?” I whispered, following Bruce from the cafeteria to head back to the lab. He took off his glasses, wiping them clean on his shirt as he thought. 

“It’s a possibility. But if Loki broke out, and is back on earth, wouldn’t Thor know that as well? I believe he is in touch with their ‘gate’ keeper of sorts. Heimdall, I think it was,” Bruce said, the electronic door hissing open as we stepped inside. I hurried over to the desk, quickly putting my findings onto a nearby screen. 

“That - that’s not good,” Bruce finally managed after minutes of silence. The power signature was off the charts, almost exactly identical to what Loki’s had been. 

“If it is the diva, do you think he would try to take New York again? Its only barely recovered,” I exclaimed, printing the scans.

“No, I don’t think so. Loki might be crazy, but he’s cunning. He wouldn’t try something like that again without proper allies, materials and planning. At least, I hope he wouldn’t,” Bruce sighed, running a hand down his face. 

“Well, Blondie is still here on earth. If he decided to attack, we’ll be on an even playing field,” I said, snatching the papers from the printer to reanalyze and take notes in the margins. 

“Do we tell the others?” He asked, coming over to examine them himself. 

“Not yet. Don’t want to cause a scene,”.

“Who are you and what have you done with Tony Stark?” Bruce chuckled, taking to jotting things down onto the whiteboard. I just laughed, praying to the tippy top of Stark Tower that the bastard wasn’t back in my hemisphere. 

Steve’s a.k.a Captan America’s P.O.V. 

Calypso was bright. Incredibly so. 

I had hardly finished giving instructions when she snatched a pistol from the rack and took up a solid stance. 

“Like this?” she inquired, glancing down at her feet with furrowed brows to assess her position. 

“Yes. Now, after you put on your head phones you’re going to want to click off the safety. That’s the little clip right...there,” I said, pointing to the small piece of metal attached to the barrel. 

She nodded, putting on the muffs.

I stepped back, leaning against one of the posts, a good five feet back. 

“Now try and aim for the red portion inside the target!” I shouted, and she nodded in acknowledgment. She fired off three shots, two hitting the white and one soaring through the yellow portion just outside the body of the target. After taking a deep breath, she fired off five more, three of which tore through the chest of the would be victim. A smile blossomed across her face, eyes lighting up as she turned towards me, gesturing wildly to the target. I gave her a thumbs up, breaking into a smile myself. Her exuberance was contagious. 

With a newfound determination, she turned back to fire the last bullet. She squared her shoulders, and took up the proper stance once again. Her mouth went from upturned to flat, as she focused on her goal. With a bang, the shot left the barrel, flying straight through the center of the paper targets head. It flew from the hook, fluttering to the ground like a leaf from a tree. 

A bullseye.

She removed the muffs, nearly shaking with pent up excitement. 

“I did it!” she yelled as soon as I removed my own muffs. She was like a child that had learned to ride a bike for the first time.  

“Nice job, especially for a beginner,” I complimented, taking the gun she held out to me. I had yet to teach her how to load it, figuring I’d save that for later on. “But remember, only fire a gun if you intend to kill. If not, don’t bother”.

She nodded, her hand absentmindedly rubbing across the small sutures of the wound that lay just beneath her shirt. 

“Do... do you think they really want me dead?” she squeaked out, not looking at me but at something no others eyes could look upon but her own. I didn’t know how to respond to that. The actions of whoever was after her wouldn’t add up if they simply wanted her dead. 

That message they sent could have just as easily have been a bomb. They could have sent more than one man to kill her on that mountain, men with heavier artillery. For all we knew, they could have bombed our base with everyone still inside just to get to her. So no. I didn’t think they wanted her dead, and the thought made a jolt of fear surge through me for Calypso. Tony had said that she’d told him that death was far better than what they’d have in store if they ever captured her. But I couldn’t tell her this. I didn’t have the heart.

“It doesn’t matter because they are not going to kill you. Not with us around,” I assured, trying to lighten the suddenly damp mood.    

Calypso’s P.O.V.

I hummed in acknowledgment of Steve’s words, but his pause was enough of an answer for me. I’d hoped with every fiber of my being that they’d leave me alone, or at the very least only plan to end me. I couldn’t live through those years of confinement again. Not after a taste of freedom, however brief. 

“Can you put up another target?” I asked, noticing how close we’d gotten. My skin tingled as I stepped away, eyeing the the table of bullets.

“Sure, sure,” Steve muttered, jogging behind the station to go retrieve the hole ridden paper. I sighed, raking a hand through my hair, the guns weight pulling down on my fingers. 

“Alright! Here’s another,” Steve said, startling me. I hadn’t heard him approach. He handed me another pistol, stepping back to his place a little ways back from me. I put on the ear muffs, casting the soldier one more glance. In the few days I’d known him, a small friendship had begun to blossom. He was a nice guy - sweet, for his time. A pang went through my chest, as I turned away, donned the muffs and took up my stance. 

I needed a miracle. Without one he might just be another friend I’d yet to lose. Another friend to suffer because of that damned woman. 

I took aim, finger tightening around the trigger. 

“Only shoot if you intend to kill,” I muttered, firing away at the imagined picture of Melody’s sneering face. 

Not one bullet missed its target.