Sneaking out of the Avengers tower when you're wanted by SHIELD, Hydra, and probably a shit ton of other underground organizations, not to mention anyone powerful that you've done wrong, is no easy feat.
But nothing's impossible.
You fed Natasha some half-truths about the meeting, not letting the guilt eat at you too much, and then the two of you hit the head because while it was still early, you had told her you were exhausted. Again, not a total lie, you haven't slept much since you were stressed about the meeting, but you needed to get out early enough too, so, there was that.
A nonstop flight from New York to Ohio runs just under a couple of hours. You managed to get to the airport by ten, got on a plane and landed in your hometown at around one-thirty. You didn't have a lot of time, needing to be back at the tower, preferably in your bed, by the crack of dawn to not cause suspicion. You had a flight back to the big apple in less than two hours from now. You were already running out of time.
You got out of the cab in front of Natasha's old house, smiling at how it was now occupied with cars parked in the driveway. Then you quickly trudged through the forest, counting your steps and circling the right trees, not even looking as you traced over your old carving which was higher now as the tree had grown.
Heart pounding in your chest, skin warming to the touch, and head throbbing with a headache, you made your way up to the house.
You looked down at the dagger tucked into your boot, your book stuffed inside your jacket, and as you blinked once slowly up to face the door, you steeled yourself. Void of all emotion.
Hand on the cold handle, you turned it with purpose, stepping inside and closing the door behind you as whatever you touched or saw of the house on the outside was now invisible to the naked eye on the outside. Your personal body heat being the only thing detectable from satellites alike, but they'd have to know what they were looking for.
The entire place was coated in a grey dark tint and the air was cooler than freezing, but again, you didn't notice as your body heat rose – something preventable now thanks to Doctor Banner. Well, it wasn't going to happen anywhere else.
"You're late."
Your eyes had barely adjusted when they flicked to the source. Your caretaker was sitting at the dining table between the kitchen and living room, his hands folded as he had his elbows on the tabletop, his forehead rested against his hands as if he were praying. His eyes were closed, and he didn't bother to open them – knowing you're the only one who would be able to enter the front door. But you stayed quiet as your eyes adjusted, hiding the look of horror that threatened to wash over your features at the sight.
His once pale complexion was now tinted grey, scars peeling from his skin as they slowly crumbled off his face, the heavy wrinkles tugging his still connected skin down in loose pieces. Some of his skin detached from his face when he moved to be able to properly look at you, his pure red, lifeless eyes met yours as he tilted his head in a sickly way with a manic smile curling at his lips.
He was falling apart.
You bowed your head, "Sorry."
He got up and rounded the room to meet you near the door, cupping your cheeks so you would look at him in the eyes. You did, but you had to swallow back the bile in your throat that threatened to give this all away.
"You look ill," He commented with a small frown and then nodded to himself, "You're back for more medication and a job, yes?"
You gave him a small, tired smile, "Can I have one without the other?"
He laughed loudly, but you resisted cringing as he led the way into the basement and you took a deep breath, chancing a glimpse behind you at the front door, knowing this could go sideways. You could walk away right now, get to the airport early, sneak back into the tower, and nobody would have to know. You don't have to do this. You could let someone else take care of it. Take care of you.
