In Your Eyes // Steve Rogers

15

Steve noticed my discomfort and looked at Tony. "Stark, it's all you."

Tony waited no longer to prove his worthiness. He made an unnoticeable grunt of extreme effort, to no use. He unwrapped his hand.

"I'll be right back."

He returned with a hand covered in armor. The hammer continued to stay still. Tony requested that Rhodey grabbed his suit hand.

While pulling upwards, Rhodey panted, "Are you even pulling?"

"Are you on my team?"

"Just represent. Pull!"

On Bruce's turn, he stepped onto the table, with both hands pulled. Jokingly, although we hadn't known at the time, he growled and jumped down, teeth bared.

I watched him, debating on whether or not I should be smiling, or worried about his sanity.

Steve decided to take a shot, stepping across me, rolling his sleeves to his elbows.

"Honestly, if anyone was going to lift it, it would be Steve or Little Miss Sunshine over there," said Tony thoughtfully.

"Really? Come on, Tony, there are such better nicknames than that," I countered, shaking my head in disappointment.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "Am I hearing right? Is that negativity? That's unlike you, Smiles."

"There you go," I smiled.

I heard a squeak against the table, snapping my attention to Steve as he pulled. He released, bringing his hands up in surrender.

"I believe it's your turn, Clara," he said.

I took his hand. He brought me to my feet. I slipped my hand through the strap and curled my fingers around the handle. I pulled. Nothing happened.

"What a shame," I announced. I put my hands on my hips and performed a fancy curtsy. "I could see myself as Queen of Asgard."

Unaware of the mild shock I'd caused with my statement, I plopped back down to my spot on the floor, only to look at the team and find everyone watching me, various types of amusement on their faces.

I sighed. "What did I say now?"

"I'd be honored, my lady, but I'm afraid my heart is with another," Thor clarified, smiling fondly at me. "And I believe yours is as well."

Tony was oblivious to Thor's reference, which all except him understood. He spit out a fast, "What?" but he was drowned out by Bruce asking Natasha if she wanted to give the hammer a try.

"Oh, no, that's not a question I need to answered," she denied.

"All difference to the man who wouldn't be King, but it's rigged," claimed Tony.

"You bet your ass," agreed Barton.

Maria pointed at Barton, eyebrows raised. "Steve, he said a bad language word!"

"Did you tell everyone about that?" groaned Steve.

Tony ignored him. He wasn't paying attention to the conversation. His genius mind still analyzed the hammer.

"The handle is like an imprint, a-a security code? 'Whoever is holding Thor's fingerprints' is, I believe, the literal translation," he disclosed.

"Ah, yes. I have a simpler one," said Thor, sweeping the hammer briskly from the table, "You're all not worthy."

Teasingly, Maria and I booed him.

A sharp ringing shot through our ears seconds later, drawing pained gasps from a few people. The echoing ringing in our ears turned into a deep voice, one that sounded lost, pained, as though it was attempting to find itself.