Chapter Six

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"I heard the news,"  Fury started, walking inside with Cap next to him.

"And?" Clint continued.
Fury stopped in the middle of the lobby, looking at each of the Avengers that was present before him.
"All of you are under house arrest."

"For how long?" Nat questioned.

"Ninety days," Cap answered for her, which she slightly smiled to with a nod and Cap returned it.

"What are the conditions?" Sam made his presence known in the room this time, knowing he'd agree with this now if that's what it takes for him to stop being a fugitive.

"For ninety days, no one is allowed to come in and out of the compound. No missions. No casualties," Fury started, "We must gain their trust back, only then we'll talk about the accords. But for now, let S.H.I.E.L.D. handle the operations."

"That's it?" Clint retorted.

"This can only be done if all of you are here, but seeing as it's only the four of you then it might take longer than that." Fury started walking again, probably wanting to take a seat in the conference room, which he did not even two minutes later.

"Stark?" Steve questioned.

"I got him handled," Fury answered, "Bruce already agreed and he's on his way. Vision and Wanda are packing their bags as we speak. And lastly, Rhodes's taking a risk with Ross at the moment, let's hope he'll talk him out of it."

"What about Thor?" Natasha questioned.

"It's unknown whether the God of Thunder will appear himself," Fury informed.

"And Barnes?" The redhead continued, turning to look at Steve now.

"He's on his way," He answered.

"What about the kid?" Sam remembered, referring to Spider-Man.

"Stark will take care of that," Fury quipped.

YOUR POV

When I got past the doorman, I knew damn well that I'd have a good time. Not because of how a small apartment building look so luxurious, or maybe I wasn't just used to this kind of environment.

A week had passed since the events with Natalia, and to be honest, living in the States is much more expensive than in Ukraine, I also have no idea why I'm still alive and walking around — I mean it's a free country, I can do anything I want, and I get that, — But standing in a hallway, head hangs low as I waited for a certain guy that I've been following tracks of, seeing that he's an easy target and his pockets full, is way easier than to clean a toilet inside the prison, not to mention it's only a penny per bowl.

Instant money, I could still back out but no, that's not even on my plate. The surveillance camera was up the ceiling, where they ought to be. Good. Let them take a picture of me; I didn't care. I looked back to mark possible existence, and not even a second later, the doorknob moved, doors slightly creaking as the 'guy' proceeded to open it wide enough for him to pass through, with this, I had an opportunity to take a glance at his place. Plain, simple, empty. Maybe I was wrong about him, then why am I standing creepily behind him and slowly pulling a stack of money out of his pocket? He can't even get notice of my presence. Why would someone put a stack of money, carelessly, in their back pocket? Maybe they're dumb or should I just stop talking and just get this done already? Yeah, I would've done that by now, but the thing is, the kind of technique I used with this 'guy' was sloppy, which was a mistake.

"Take one step back and you're dead," The 'guy' suddenly threatened.

I stepped back, of course, I did. "Sorry, not dead." I sarcastically smiled as he turned around to face me. Wow, such a good-looking man. His jaw clenched, eyes traveling down to my hands that were playing with the money. "Where'd you get this stack of money?" I questioned, keeping the conversation light. He didn't answer. Fine. "Okay, thanks!" and that's when I started running, again.

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