Chapter 9

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"That is the quinjet. Mademoiselle, is Captain Rogers leaving with the team?" You felt an unfamiliar fear clawing within you.

Natasha stayed silent. Considering the effect it had on you, she might as well have slapped you across the face. Forcing your palms on the table, you stood up with such fierce velocity that the chair you had been sitting on was thrown back, its ultimate fate being to crash against the wall. "IS CAPTAIN ROGERS ON THAT MISSION?" Your voice was loud enough to make Natasha flinch.

You vaguely registered Natasha nodding in response. In a matter of seconds, you were running across the exorbitant building towards the hangar, with your would-be mother right on your heels.

What if this was the mission? That was the dread fuelling your sprint. What if Hydra did succeed in carrying out their malicious plan? What would happen to you? You would cease to exist, yes, but how? Would you just die of a myocardial infarction or would it be something dramatic, like spontaneous obliteration? And what about Natalie? You didn't intend to find out.

Slight dizziness set in by the time you reached the hangar. Looking around, you realised that the engines you had heard were just for a test run. Tony was still waiting at the jet entrance for Steve and Clint to board. Apparently, Bruce was there to wish them luck.

"Capitaine. You're leaving." It wasn't a question. It was a statement. It was also the dumbest, most useless thing you could've possibly said.

"Yeah." Steve was visibly chipper, now that he could show you the reason for his inhospitable attitude earlier. "The briefing for this mission, that's where I needed to be when you asked for my help with the paperwork. I hope I didn't offend you."

"Non, non. No, you didn't." You rubbed your sweaty palms against your top, thinking of something to say. Anything. "I did come across le document concerning this mission, reéllement. Mineur arms raid, isn't it? Certainly not of such importance as to réclamer your presence."

"What do you, uh....what do you mean?" Steve forced a grin, managing to very unsubtly ignore Bruce who was trying to diffuse the upcoming argument by pushing him aboard.

"Or do you raisonner that the team won't make it without you?" You already had the ground work laid out, all that was required was to build on it. Little known fact, Steve Rogers had an ego which could easily rival Tony Stark's. The only thing was being a small boy from Brooklyn concealed it much better than being a genius, billionaire, playboy and philanthropist did. And right now, that ego was probably going to save his life.

"You study assignments, concevoir strategies, all of it keeping yourself in the centrer." You walked closer to Steve, feigning cordiality and making sure that he knew it. "That is why you're there on every mission. You don't penser the team can make it on its own."

"What is happening?" Clint whispered to Natasha who responded by shushing him away.

Steve's mind was all over the place. He'd admit that he was a little rude to you at some point during the day but he was positive he had done nothing to incite such outrageous behaviour. He looked out the window and the setting sun represented the time which was running out.

"I feel like it would make no difference no matter what I say. And there's a jet I need to board." Steve gestured for you to move out of the way.

"Then sit this one out." You refused to budge. "Let them prouver themselves."

At a moment's notice, the air in the room changed drastically. The overhanging silence refused to mask the tension. Tony looked into your eyes and saw panic. Instantly, his loyalty was pledged.
He tried to negotiate. "Like the lady said, Cap, sit this one out. You've been over working yourself, this break was long overdue."

Steve looked around the room with a disbelieving glare on account that no one protested. "Fine. But take Banner in case things go south." His voice didn't lose an ounce of its usual tone of authority.

For the sake of his dignity, Steve decided to leave the room. He did turn his head and look at you once, his gaze held no questions but demanded justification. Meanwhile, Tony had rushed Bruce and Clint onto the jet.

Possibly giving it another thought, he hopped out and jogged to you. His voice held no judgement, just concerned advice and you couldn't specifically identify what emotion you saw in his eyes, only, it felt soothing.

"I don't want to know why you did what you did. It's none of my business. Him, however," He pointed to the direction Steve had stormed off in,"You owe an explanation. And maybe an apology."

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