Chapter 14-It's never Goodbye

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Chapter 14-It's never goodbye.

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*24 Hours Later*

People called it The Battle of New York, but all I knew is it had been twenty four hours since I've been in hell. Somehow it feels like a lifetime ago. Our physical, and mental, wounds are the only evidence proving the attack happened but the nightmares didn't end immediately like we hoped.

We, the Avengers, crashed when we reached the Helicarier after the attack. Fury made us go through a full medical examination before letting us sleep, though. I had two broken ribs, a variety of bruises, and a sprained ankle to name a few of my injuries. After I was released I stumbled to an empty room and slept for two full days. As sleeping goes, my hibernation was well deserved.

At 6 AM on the third morning, while everyone else was sleeping, or so I thought, I crept into the kitchen to make myself breakfast. Sleeping for hours on end will, unsurprisingly, make you nauseous and aching for food and, because I believed myself to be alone, I stood in the middle of the kitchen wearing a 2008 Taylor Swift t-shirt and a pair of fluffy pink PJ pants that I had found in the drawer of the room I slept in holding a toaster waffle in one hand and using my other to keep myself upright on one of the silver tables in the middle of the kitchen. I was somehow still exhausted. Emotionally, I wanted to burst into tears, physically, I felt like I could fall over if I tried to move an inch.

I'd later learn that Tony, who was taking the brutal beating better than the rest of us, had gone to Stark Towers to start the clean up process the day after the attack. Bruce, who wasn't the Hulk anymore, managed to salvage a lot of Tony's tech and decided to help Tony clean up New York right after his medical examination. Other than those two, we, the rest of the Avengers, were on the Helicarier.

My fingers, that were slightly purple, hurt to flex so I tried to stay as still as possible while eating my waffle. It tasted like dirt, but damn it if it wasn't the best dirt I'd ever had in my entire life. My knees and calves were sore and I suddenly had the feeling that I should have stayed in bed another day. I knew exactly where I would be heading after I filled my stomach.

"Seems like the world is starting to get back to normal," I heard behind me.

Turning, I found Steve's smiling in the kitchen doorway. Unsurprisingly, he looked unfazed by the wounds he had sustained during the fight—we got it, he was perfect—and I wished I had his superhuman healing ability too. He wore a black tee, straight jeans, black boots and a newish looking belt, as in the loops didn't appear to be worn yet, and although his face looked healed, I could still see some yellow bruises on his crossed arms.

"The world will never be normal," I said, leaning my back against the table to face him.

"That's the beauty of our world, I think. Our normal isn't really normal," he said. "You couldn't sleep?"

I nodded aggressively, "Oh, I slept. Nobody told you? I was dead to the world."

He laughed, "Yeah, I knew. Just keeping it light."

I was grateful for the lightness.

He laughed, moving towards me slowly, his body flexing lightly, as if he was trying to stretch but not show off, "I slept for a day or so. Not quite sure. I could not sleep this morning, though. I felt like I needed to move."

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