Burning Bright: An Avengers Fanfiction

Old Wounds

A little boy runs as fast as his legs will carry him, giggling and constantly looking behind his back. He darts through the huge cavernous hallways, finally coming to a stop behind a great marble pillar and pressing against it. Huge thunderous footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway.

"Where are you, my little nephew?" a man questions, his voice deep and rich. The little boy covers his mouth with both hands to prevent another laugh from escaping. The man starts to whistle casually, looking behind a column every now and again. Suddenly, the footsteps fade away and the little boy peeks out from behind his hiding spot. Just as he's about to come out into the open, two big hands wrap around his ankles and take him off his feet.

The child laughs in glee as he's swung around like a pendulum. The man begins to laugh as well, his deep voice mixing in with the kid's own high-pitched squeals.

"Ah, there you are little nephew! I thought I would never find you!" The man swings the boy onto his hip, and looks seriously into the youth's face.

"What has your grandmother told you about playing pranks on your tutors, hm?" the adult questions as he begins to walk back down the way the child had come from.

"But Uncle, you should have seen it, it was magnef, magnaf, mag-"

"Magnificent." the boy's uncle helps out.

"Magnificent!" the child shouts, now buzzing with excitement, his eyes lighting up. "It was tricky finding the perfect moment, but when he was distracted by some pretty woman, I grabbed the old geezer's hat, put a little glue on the rim, and the next thing I know he's running around like a chicken without its head, pulling at his hat screeching his head off. He even fell in the fountain! This was my best prank yet!"

His uncle sighs, but a smile is still on his face. "A little mischief maker, aren't you? Just like your father when we were children."

The boy suddenly quiets down, and lays his head down on his uncle's shoulder. He looked to be in deep thought, or at least as deep as a child can look.

"When can I see Papa? I miss him." the little boy whispers quietly. The man turns his head ever so slightly to face his young charge, but continues to walk. He gives a small sigh and rubs the child's back in a comforting way.

"You know your father prefers it if you didn't call him papa, call him father. And he is a very busy man, but I'm sure you'll see him soon." he tries to be reassuring, but his words seem to have the opposite effect. The little boy's eyes suddenly glimmer with unshed tears and he buries his face in his uncle's shoulder.

"Even when I do see him, he doesn't play with me or listen to what I say. He talks to me for maybe five minutes about how I'm doing in my studies, tells me I should be doing better, and then hands me off to grandmother or Auntie. He doesn't like me." the child begins to sob quietly, and the man feels a small amount of anger begin to grow towards his brother. Doesn't he see what he's doing to his own child? Doesn't he realize that he should be the one there, teaching him, raising him, not someone else?

"Your father may not show it very often, but he cares about you deeply. It's just hard for him; he was so young when you were born, and when he doesn't know how to deal with a situation, he simply tries to avoid it as much as possible." the man winces at his last words, praying he didn't say the wrong thing. The child on his shoulder sifts slightly, but keeps silent. When he takes a peek at his nephew, the man finds him to be asleep. Chuckling to himself, the man continues on his way to his nephew's bedroom.

Just as he's twisting the door knob, the man feels a presence behind him and turns around to face his brother. His brother is looking at the sleeping child in his arms, his eyes soft. Then, his eyes trail up to the man holding his son, and anger quickly replaces the gentle gaze, and his brother is gone at a turn of the heel. The man sighs, never hoping to understand his complicated brother, and proceeds into his nephew's room.

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 I shot up so quickly that I end up rolling off the couch onto the floor, doing a graceful face plant. I let out a groan as I detangle an afghan from my legs that definitely wasn't  there last night when I fell asleep watching TV.