Acceptance at its Bitterest

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After Tony had knocked over five times at the bunker's entrance, the metal of his armour making a resonant clang when collided against the door, the team was beginning to lose patience.

Clint stared at the door as if willing it to open. "I have a feeling they don't like entertaining guests."

"Given that we literally had to summon the King of Hell to get their address, it's unlikely that they have frequent visitors." Albeit with a sarcastic comment, Natasha nodded in agreement.

"Are we even in the right place?" Steve was doing a barely decent job at hiding his jitters for a very sound reason of being a mere metal door away from turning his life into utter chaos. Once you would meet the team and things would begin to even slightly unravel, he would have to explain himself to the Avengers, to Bucky and worst of all, to you.

Sam looked around to confirm the situation. "We should be. That's their car."

"Everyone, step back." Tony warned before his helmet slid shut and he raised his gauntlet to fire a repulser beam at the obtrusive door, leaving behind a sizeable hole and a plethora of smoke in its wake.

Unbeknownst to them, on the other side arms were being locked and loaded and positions had already been taken to welcome the unrequested invitees at the now nonexistent door.

When the smoke cleared, the first thing Tony saw were your illuminated golden eyes which had taken a daunting undertone. You were the first line of defence after the door, airborne at the level of the gantry, albeit a safe distance away from it featuring a deceptively delicate mist swirling at your fingertips. Your expression morphed into that of utter confusion and your eyes went back to (Y/E/C) when you spotted Steve admist the group.

As the team descended the stairs, except for those who could fly their way down, your eyes remained trained on Steve, asking more questions than your mouth ever could. Your feet touched the ground as well and the hunters came out of their hideouts exchanging glances with each other and then the Avengers, their minds completely flaking on them in regard to how to tackle the situation.

The air in the room grew denser with each passing second, upto a point where breathing in a lungful of air became a strenuous task. The overhanging silence gave the illusion that no one had anything to say but the harsh reality was everyone had so much going around in their heads that nothing cohesive would form on their tongues. Your presence in the same room wasn't making it easier either.

Wanda offered an easy escape. "I am new to the city. The country, even. Would you mind showing me around?" She asked you with hopeful eyes.

Looking around, you realised the collective energy in the room impelled you to leave and you had no reason not to, except for the irresistible urge writhing within you to know what was going on. Finally, you decided to bow to the majority's will by taking up Wanda's offer, even though you didn't know the first thing about her.

The beautiful eyed man in the red and gold armour, whom you had recognised as the billionaire Tony Stark, looked visibly more shaken than the others, which you only noticed because he looked like he could collapse at any moment but given that everyone in the room was oozing emotions that made your stomach churn, you almost expected it.

"Steady." You squeezed his shoulder for encouragement before you left. As soon as you and Wanda were out of sight, the room bustled with activity.

"Whatever you're here for, you ain't getting nothing." Dean defensively crossed his arms over his chest. Natasha eyed him carefully, as if assessing the time it would take for her to disable him should it come to that. "How long?" She asked.

"What do you mean?" Sam moved closer to his brother, for a show of dominance, yes, but also to make sure Dean didn't do anything drastic in the heat of the moment.

Clint took a step closer to Natasha for the same reason. "How long have you known?" He asserted the same question, his tone implying not providing a rational answer in return wasn't an option. "Two years, give or take." Sam narrowed his eyes, trying to catch a shift in the situation, if there was any.

Bucky had been silent for a little too long. "I'm sorry, I was told this was going to be a retrieval mission. We haven't retrieved anything yet and it doesn't look like we're going to."

Steve pulled out the first piece of furniture he saw and let himself sit. In his head he had pictured there would come a time when he would have to tell Bucky everything about you and all that he didn't remember from before but never in his wildest dreams had he thought that he would be doing that in a cryptic location he had just broken into where his team was on the brink of a spectacular fight.

"Buck," He called out indeterminately, "There's something you need to know."

After all was said and done, Bucky felt his mind slipping away, a sensation he had lost habituation to. Nothing Steve had said rang a bell. The proposition that a chunk of his memory was actively being blocked from his conscious was preposterous. "I remember none of it. It doesn't make sense." He said in a weak voice.

"Seeing as that's the truth, it doesn't matter." Dean spat out defiantly. Sam did a double take. For a man whose last memory he had was arguing about pie, this was pretty damn intense. "You're one to talk about truth when you've been hiding (Y/N) from us all these years!" He bluntly accused.

"Because we have a bad taste in our mouths from the first time around." It was Dean's turn to retaliate. "We find her alive and well and what do you think is the next thing we do? Send her right back to the people who got her killed in the first place so that they can play out that ordeal all over again?"

Sam whispered to get his brother's attention and when he had it, he directed it towards Tony who was positively seething, looking like he would explode at any moment.

The list of things Dean Winchester was scared of was short. Today, it had been extended by an incident, and a name.

"Mr. Stark?" Sam called out nervously. "Tony?"

"Do you realize how I have lived the past three years of my life?" Tony took slow, careful steps towards the hunter brothers, rage reigning his features. "To wake up from nightmares to a cold, empty other side of the bed? To hear your heart ache for the feeling of content it's never going to get? To feel everything you do is futile because the one person you care so much about is never going to be by your side again?"

No answer came, not that it was expected. For the first time in two years, Dean wondered whether keeping you a secret was his best judgement. To Sam, it happened far more often than his liking.

"But you're right." Tony's voice was stark with emotion, "(Y/N)'s safety is paramount. With history bearing witness, it's evident she is safer here than with us. Call Maximoff, we're leaving."

-

Considering the time you had spent with Wanda, you knew surprisingly little about her, which was in an ironic contrast with the amount of interest she was showing in your life.

"What is it?" You asked, tilting your head to one side. "What?" Wanda visibly flushed at the question. She wasn't used to people reading her mind.

Your gaze, however, remained constant and she knew. She knew you had peeked inside her head, just enough to spare her privacy. Soon the hesitation faded and she appeared to be ready to speak her mind when her psyche suddenly changed with a red flicker in her eyes and the emotion was replaced by disappointment.

"I have to go."

You let your distress show for the first time that day. "What? Why?"

"It seems that the negotiations between my team and your....friends have gone unfavourably." Wanda sighed. "It was nice seeing you again, (Y/N)."

Even though she was walking away, her eyes lingered on you, beckoning you to pursue her, to pursue the knowledge she possessed, to pursue them.

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