Avenge the Fallen (Avengers Fan Fiction #2)

Chapter 10

A lot of noise erupted from the basement. Tony messed with what he had down there and worked on his suit. He was standoffish lately, so we left him alone to tinker with his toys. Our backpacks were packed with essentials and food just in case we needed to leave in a hurry.

Ira curiously observed everyone, taking in our actions and how we did things. She relaxed against the chair off to the side of the living room and tilted her head when she didn't understand something. Eventually, she pulled out a notebook and started writing notes in her language. Natasha curled up in one of the window seats and read a book. Bruce flipped through some new schematic he was designing. Peter and Steve played a board game. Both of them were tied and all of their concentration was put into the game.

Clint walked in and carefully sat down next to me while holding a giant cup of coffee in his hands. He held the cup like it was the holy grail itself, carrying the most divine fluid in the world. He inhaled before taking a sip, moaning at the taste of it. Barton missed coffee so much. The taste. The smell. It was like his lifeline right now. "You guys don't know what you're missing out on. This is the richest, most delicious coffee I've ever tasted. The warmth envelops your entire body and sends chills down your spine. The spices mix around the cup and fills the air with an aroma of mouth-watering goodness. When you take a sip, the nutmeg and pepper dances across your tongue and settles in your mouth to leave a tingling aftertaste."

By the end of his description, almost all of our mouths were watering for some of that coffee. "Too bad this is the last brew of this particular coffee. Tony only had one pouch of it left," Clint added and took a long drink.

We all groaned in unison and I threw my head back against the couch. What a tease. I relaxed against the soft couch cushions and drifted into a happy state of mind. All of us were together, safe, and cherishing modern furniture to our heart's content. I lifted my head and looked over at the two boys playing the board game. Steve glanced up and locked eyes with me, forming a small grin on his lips. I smiled in return and was about to say something until Barton spoke up again.

"Do you guys trust me with your lives?" He set the cup down in his lap and looked at it blankly. Clint wasn't usually the one to look down on himself, but something really hit him to the core. His voice almost fell to a whisper, "I've read some internet conversations saying that I'm useless and don't contribute to the team..."

"We trust you, Clint," we said in unison. We glimpsed at each other and waited for someone to speak up first.

Steve took the initiative to talk, "You're an expert marksman and Avenger."

"You're funny and a good gamer," Peter added to the list.

Bruce chipped in too as he peered up from his schematics, "You're great at making coffee and scaring the crap out of Tony."

I set my hand on his shoulder and looked into his blue eyes. Damn. Everyone took the good characteristics. I ran through my memories, going back over six months. After I almost killed Steve, he consoled me. That's it. That's another thing about him that we love. "You give great advice and really bring this team together, Clint. I don't know what we'd do without you."

He nodded slowly and flexed his jaw. His eyes grazed over Ira and fixated on Nat, who listened in on the conversation, but didn't take part in it. Clint watched her in silence, admiring the light making her blonde hair glisten and her green eyes sparkle as they scanned the page. "Nat, you trust me, right?"

Natasha closed her book and set her hands on top of it. A smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but never quite made it fully. Her eyes flickered over to him and softened. Her voice subtly hinted at her fondness of him and she quickly covered it up, "Yeah, I do. I do."