Tigress ➳ An Avengers Fanfic (Book 1 of the Scepter Chronicles)

9

        There was one thing that kept coming to mind as Steve guided me through the large crowd. 

        So much black. 

        The people were dressed in black. The large guns dangling at their sides were black. The ground we were walking on was black. The helicopter we had arrived in was black. The thousands of high-tech planes surrounding us were black. So much black. 

        My only comforts were the light brown of Steve's jacket, the blue of his jeans, and his blonde hair. He paused, looking around, and I stared defiantly at anyone giving us a strange look as they walked by. 

        Yes, I have purple eyes. No, I'm not afraid to fight you. 

        They could probably crush me in under 5 seconds.

        I was too wrapped up in my thoughts to notice Steve walking away, his hand still gripping my wrist. Defiant Caly turned into Klutzy Caly as I stumbled after him, smacking into people left and right. He looked back, an amused smirk playing on his lips before he turned away. Rolling my eyes, I glared daggers into his back and muttered incomprehensibly. He tugged me out of the crowd and over to a familiar man. Nick Fury. 

        "Hey, Cap. Nice of you to join us." The corner of his mouth twitched slightly in what I assumed was the closest to a smile we would get out of him. He nodded at me. 

        "Caly." 

        "Fury." 

        He turned to Steve and began speaking in a quiet voice. My parents used to do that when they were talking about something secret. I strained to listen. I only caught a few words from the conversation, such as "Avengers", "Banner", "Loki", "the Hawk," and "the Tesseract," whatever that was. I crossed my arms and watched the people passing by. 

        A sudden whirring caught my attention, and I looked up, squinting against the sun, to see a large black shape getting descending towards us. 

        "That must be Nat," I heard Fury say. He took off, Steve at his heels, matching him stride for stride. 

        Unfortunately, Steve wasn't dragging me with him this time. I ran after them, ducking through the sea of black and trying too keep up with my beacon of blonde hair and blue jeans. 

        A few black shirts flashed in front of me, and when I looked past them, Steve was gone. Cursing under my breath, I whipped around, searching. 

        "Steve!" I yelled, pushing though the crowd. "Steve!" 

        Hands gripped my waist, pulling me back. I screamed and struggled, slapping at the hands. 

        "Whoa, Tiger." 

        I whirled around, heart beating frantically. I was met with brown eyes and messy, brown hair. He was shorter than Steve and dressed in a Black Sabbath shirt and dark jeans. 

        "Who're you?" I asked, glaring at him. 

        "Tony. Tony Stark. Are you seriously asking that question?" 

        I gave him a unamused look, and he shook his head at me. 

        "Multi-millionaire? Iron Man? Creator and owner of that giant building in New York City with my name on it?" 

        I shook my head. 

        He sighed. "Well, who are you?" 

        "Caly." 

        He smirked. "Is that short for something?" 

        I frowned, and he shook his head. "Alright, alright. Let's find this Steve of yours." 

        He lifted me like I weighed absolutely nothing and placed me on his shoulders. 

        "I am 16 years old!" I squeaked, gripping his shoulders in fear of falling. 

        He moved through the crowd with ease as I sighed and scanned around for any sign of blonde hair. Something caught my eye. 

        "There!" I yelled, pointing. 

        "Where?" Tony yelled back. 

        Instead of answering, I gripped his hair and pulled. 

        "Ow, ow, ow," he complained as I directed him through the crowd. 

        Steve was looking around, and when he saw me, he looked surprised. I smiled at him, moving Tony forward. 

        "I am not a horse-" Tony started, but I shushed him. 

        As we neared Steve and Fury, I released Tony's hair and slid off his shoulders. I sprinted towards them, arms open. Steve grinned and opened his arms, and I barreled right past him and into Nat. We laughed at Steve's expression. A man with wire-rimmed glasses and mousy brown hair stood next to Nat. I smiled at him. 

        "I'm Caly," I told him, holding out my hand. 

        "Bruce Banner." He shook it. 

        "You might want to step inside in a minute. It's going to get a little hard to breathe," Nat said with a smirk, taking off into the crowd. 

        Tony sighed and looked down at me. I grinned and he rolled his eyes. "I thought you were 16 years old," he said, and I pouted. 

        I raced after Nat, using my small size to duck and dodge around people. The ground shuddered suddenly, and I tumbled into Steve. He gripped my shoulders to keep me from falling  and looked around. Next to me, Bruce scanned the sea. 

        "Is this a submarine?" he asked, laughing. I didn't understand what was so funny. "Really? They want me submerged in a pressurized, metal container?" Bruce chuckled, and Nat smirked. Instead of sinking, the helicarrier began to rise. 

        "Oh, no. This is much worse," Bruce decided, heading towards a set of doors. I followed him through them and into an enormous room bustling with agents.

        "Whoa," I gasped, twirling around, staring up at the ceiling. 

        "'Whoa' indeed," Fury said. I whirled around, forgetting that he had been there. Maria Hill stood next to him, smiling when she caught my eye. I returned it. 

        "Glad you all could make it." Fury moved forward, walking past us and into the front of the room where an upraised circle of glass allowed us to look out the front windows of the helicarrier. I pressed my face against the glass and looked out at the sea below us. It didn't even feel like we were moving. 

        "This is the control room. It's where I'll be most of the time if you ever need me. Dr. Banner, Agent Romanoff can show you to your lab." 

        Nat nodded at Bruce, and he followed her out of the room. 

        Fury walked back up the stairs and into what looked like a conference room, the rest of us following him like a bunch of tourists. A large oak table sat in the center of the room surrounded by plush, leather, spinning chairs. A giant S.H.I.E.L.D symbol adorned one wall, and the wall across from it was completely glass, giving us a few of the control room. I immediately sat down in one and sunk into the leather, spinning the chair around and around. 

         Fury looked at me with amusement. "If we need to discuss anything, it'll be in here," he said, moving out. Sighing, I glanced longingly at the chair and followed the rest of the group.

        Fury showed us more rooms, including a room holding what he called quinjets, which I assumed were very high-tech jets. He then showed us to our rooms. I entered my room, the door closing behind me with a soft click, and surveyed the room. Almost everything was a drab gray color except the polished light oak floors and white bed frame. It had to go. 

        I decided to fix it in my free time as I sprawled out on the bed. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was overtaken by sleep.