The Seventh Avenger

Chapter 33: Hit Me

"I need eyes up high, with a gun-but don't shoot unless I say so," Coulson requests to Clint as he lowers his own radio from his mouth. Clint nods his head in understanding before he then hurriedly moves towards the crate of weapons where his hands wrap around the black steel of his familiar bow and a handful of sharp, pointed arrows before he then takes off towards the door. Before he pushes it open however he momentarily halts in his tracks to turn around and look back at me, his face serious. I look directly back as he gives me a quick but meaningful nod-once in which I returned. It was our way of silently saying to one another, Be careful and stay safe, without having to actually say these words out loud whenever we were on missions together. We had been doing it since I had started at S.H.I.E.L.D and it certainly wasn't something that we were ever going to stop doing.

"I will-you too," I softly say to him. He offers me a small smile at my words before he then turns back around to rush out the door, not looking back as he does.

"I'm afraid we might need your help," Coulson says quickly from behind me, his words causing me to drag my attention away from the door as my stomach drops in dread at what he was saying. He was saying that he needed me to go in there and fight Thor, someone whom I had been helping in the past twenty-four hours. And now Coulson-not knowing that Thor and I knew one another-was asking me to go up against him, without any complaints from me despite the fact that I didn't particularly want to fight Thor. Not just because I knew him but also because he could possibly be a God, who could toss people almost bigger than him like rag dolls.

Despite my unease, I swallow down any protests that had slowly been working their way up my throat and mask my face with determination as I turn around to face my former S.O. "Which tunnel is the trespasser in?" I ask trying to keep my voice as even as possible.

Coulson seems to think that there's nothing out of the ordinary with me as he moves past me and walks over to the crates where Clint had grabbed his bow and arrow moments before, informing meas he goes, "He's just entered the south tunnel. He'll probably be moving North, seeing as that's where the 0-8-4 is."

"You think he's after the 0-8-4?" I ask, feigning ignorance.

"What else would he be here for?" Coulson asks absentmindedly as he rummages through the crate, looking for something that I didn't know. He soon finds it however as he pulls his arm out of the long crate and turns around where I'm surprised to see that he has a bostaff in his hand, the smooth metal weapon gleaming underneath the lights hanging down from the roof above us. I can't help but stare at the sight of the familiar weapon in Coulson's pale hands, my fingers twitching at my side itching to wrap around the staff. I use to use them quite often at the S.H.I.E.L.D academy and before I had gotten my powers, as well as my daggers, guns and batons. But after the scientists did what they did to me I started to depend on my powers more and more and my other weapons less and less. Bringing them along on missions had just been pointless- but it appears that Coulson wanted me to use one again after all this time.

"Figure you may need this," Coulson says before he tosses the staff towards me, where I quickly raise up one of my hands to catch the weapon with ease before I then balance it lightly in my hand before then raising my other to grasp at the weapon as well. I don't look up from it as Coulson adds on grimly, "He's a big guy-he's taking down half of my men as we speak. Take him out before he gets to the 0-8-4."

"I'll try," I inform him faintly before I then rush open towards the door that Clint had disappeared through moments before where I slam past it before leaping down the slippery steps two at a time until my feet hit the muddy ground. Once secure, I take off towards the entrance of the north tunnel where I could already see unconscious bodies strewn about.

The pouring rain falling from the sky above instantly soaks my loose hair, causing the blonde waves to stick to the back of my neck and clothes as I move, beads of water dripping from the end of the strands. With a start, I realize as I continue to run that I wasn't exactly wearing combat appropriate clothes. Rather than my S.H.I.E.L.D uniform, I was wearing simple jeans and a t-shirt with my coat covering my bare arms and flowing out behind me as I ran. I had no time to change however as Coulson was expecting me to take down Thor sooner rather than later: casual rather then practical clothing was just going to have to do for now.