Scorpia

Chapter 2

"What the hell were you thinking y/n?! You know how dangerous it is to jump when you're injured! Or did you forget about Brazil?!" Clint had been yelling for the past 20 minutes since he had stormed into the med bay with a look that could turn a Chitaurie warrior to stone but now I had had enough.

"I was thinking that I needed to get out of there before I got my ass handed to me any further! I know precisely how dangerous it is to jump when I'm injured, but I didn't exactly have much of a choice! Don't you dare bring Chase into this! I've regretted that day every single moment of my life for the last six years so I don't need you to rub any more salt in the wound, Clinton!" I cut him off, my tone matching his in volume and intensity. My chest heaves as I attempt to regain my composure before looking my brother in the eye again. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't let you know, but I didn't exactly have time to make a phonecall. Besides, I got here in one peice, more or less," I shrug my shoulders as Clint sits down on the bed beside me.

"I just want to know one more thing; why didn't you go to the farm?" Clint asks, his face much softer now, but still with a hint of fear that I knew was caused by my current state.

"Because I didn't know that you were there, and you know I would never put Laura and the kids in that kind of danger. If one of those morons followed me through and I couldn't protect them, and you weren't there, I would never be able to live with myself," I explained as calmly as I could.

"Tony, could you undo the cuffs, please? I wanna hug my sister," Clint says with tears building in his eyes. Once the cuffs are off my wrists Clint pulls me gently into his arms and whispers in my ear, "It's good to see you, Stinger."

"It's good to see you too, Feathers," I whisper back, fighting away the tears threatening to fall down my own cheeks.

I had been staying at the compound for a little over a week since it was safer there than going back to my apartment. Nat had gone over and collected my clothes and some of my other stuff so my room felt more like home.

Currently, I was sitting on the couch in the common room, working on a new novel. The rest of the team was spread out around the common room and kitchen; either cooking, working on their Starkpads, watching the extended edition of the Hobbit that was playing on the tv, or reading. The peace and quiet is disturbed by Tony bounding into the room with the look of a kid stuck in Disneyland overnight on his face.

"I have good news!" he announces.

"Did you finally figure out who keeps putting coffee grounds in the disposal?" Nat asks with a sardonic tone and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing.

"No, but I will find out one of these days," Tony huffs out before grinning once more. "No, I figured out who sent those goons after Baby Bird," he says as he swipes across the screen of his Starkpad to bring up a holographic projection of a man with a face like a rat, balding hair, and a pudgy frame. "Meet Anton Peterson, owner of Peterson Corporation, a shell company for Hydra."

"Vy budete sozhalet' ob etom" I mutter under my breath.

Immediately sevral heads turn to look at me with expressions ranging from curiosity to worry. 

"Mladshaya sestra?" Nat asks in a worried tone.

"I've met that man before," I say to the room at large. "A few months ago he approached me in a cafe in Manhattan. He said that he had a position for me in his company, that they required someone of my skill set for a few delicate operations. When I told him to take his offer and shove it he spat at me that I would regret it before he stormed out. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time, but now..." I trail off, deep in thought.

"We should invite him in for a talk," Clint says from his perch on the back of my couch while cracking his knuckles, clearly meaning that he would let his fists do the talking. As much as my brother irritated me sometimes, I know that I can always count on him in a fight.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea, and we have the perfect opportunity to do just that," Tony says, tapping away at the tablet, replacing Anton's photo with an invitation to a masquerade ball. "Suit up sweetheart, you're going undercover."