The Seventh Avenger

Chapter 57: Reunited

Horns blared and drivers cursed while pedestrians moved along the footpaths of the busy New York streets, the city more than alive despite it being rather late at night. The sounds were somewhat blurred to me though, due to the glass of the lobby acting as a barrier between where I stood in the Stark Tower lobby and the packed streets outside.

In the eight months that I had lived in New York, I hadn't visited the Stark Tower. Not only because I rarely had the spare time to do so, but also because it wasn't quite finished being built yet. Construction, according to Tony, was just finishing up and there were a few things left for him to do before it officially opened. Something that Tony seemed rather eager about if I was to be quite honest. The last time that I had spoken to him, he had seemed excited about creating the tower that would run on nothing but clean energy produced by its own arc reactor. It was another accomplishment that he felt proud of, wanting only to do good with his company.

With much construction left, the building was essentially empty. There wasn't a receptionist sitting behind the polished desk towards the back of the lobby, and as far as I knew there wasn't anyone else in the ninety-three floors above me, aside from Tony and Pepper of course. There was no security either, meaning that it had been practically to easy for me to slip inside the buildings main front door without setting off any alarms. Now that I was in, all I had to do was wait for Phil Coulson to arrive so that the two of us could go up and talk to Tony together.

I stifle a yawn as I rub a tired hand down my face, my eyes stinging from how tired I was. I hadn't slept since the night before my mission, not being able to do so on the quinjet from Paris to New York, despite Hill's insistence that I do so. The next couple of days were going to be hectic, what with trying to find Loki and to take the Tesseract back for SHIELD once more.

As well as the possibility of coming face to face with my Uncle.

The thought of Clint being compromised and, according to Hill, under the influence of the God of Mischief was the cause of my quick agreement for joining the mission and of my sleepless trip. Every time that I closed my eyes and attempted to drift off, unwanted thoughts about my Uncle being controlled against his will would stir from every corner of my mind. It made me worried to the point where I had begun to feel sick: sleeping wasn't an option. I needed to find him, and I needed to snap him out from whatever control that Loki had put him under. Not just for my sake, but for Laura and the kids as well.

I had tried to get in contact with Laura almost straight after Maria had first broken the news that Clint had been compromised in the first place. Unfortunately, each of my calls had gone straight to her voice mail- all eighteen of them. But that hasn't stopped me from attempting to get in contact with her after Hill had dropped me off at the tower. Not only did Laura need to know about Clint, but she had to leave her farmhouse as soon as possible. As much as I hoped that Clint wouldn't do anything to harm his family, there was a small part of me that feared that if Loki ordered him to do so, then Clint wouldn't be able to refuse. I needed Laura and the kids to be somewhere safe: for my sake, and Clint's. If he did ever hurt his family, even if he wasn't in control of himself, it would absolutely destroy him.

I sigh as I pace the length of some of the window frames, deciding to dial Laura once more. Coulson would be here shortly, but that didn't mean that I wasn't going to try and use every spare moment to get a hold of Laura until she answered my call. But it seems that I had nothing to worry about, as she picked up after the second ring.

She speaks before I have the chance to get any of my words out. "Judging from the eighteen missed calls from you that I just saw, I take it that some thing's gone wrong."

I rub a hand down my face once more, only this time it wasn't due to how tired I was feeling. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inform her quietly, "Something happened. It's Clint. He's...he's alive, but he's not himself."