Why Not?

Chapter Twenty-One: Hearts Cool Quickly and Betrayal's A Bitch

Sitting upright, you loudly sighed as you ran your hands through your hair. Your fingers tangled, you got them out, it was fine. It's all fine.

But what if it really... wasn't?

Your curiosity got the better of you as you sat to think. Well, you were trying to think, anyway.

You should-- no.

A pause.

Well...

It was illegal, but you wanted answers. They were so attainable, too.

So is imprisonment. You thought.

...

It only took you about five more minutes of battling with your conscience, and not long after that to hack into HYDRA's files, and the 'AVENGER INITIATIVE' files.

After that, it was just sorting through everything you thought was connected, and everything you thought was stuff to ask about another day. (An Example would be the weird shit you'd seen on some of the adoption sheets you saw.)

When you saw it, and you pieced it together, your breath just kind of... stopped. Your eyes went wide, and you felt a shiver down your spine. 

Slamming your laptop closed, you begin to panic. 

"Y/n L/n, are you alright? Do I need to inform..." that was the last thing you heard F.R.I.D.A.Y. say before the blackout that ensued moments later. 

...

You woke up, strapped to a stretcher in the lab, an IV strip in your arm, and both Tony and Stephen at your side, staring at you intensely. The sound of a heartbeat-- your heartbeat-- rang out from the monitor next to you, telling everyone that you were awake, yet calm. You didn't really understand what'd happened for a few moments, but you started to remember what'd happened before you'd blacked out. 

The file you'd put together under the 'AVENGER INITIATIVE'  having to deal with Micheal was printed and on the table next to you, a picture of your foster brother peaking out. 

As you looked at it,  you felt the panic swell in your chest again. You didn't really remember why, until the golden America boy himself walked in with a glare that could kill off all the bloodlines of everyone in the building. (Or in simpler terms, he was not happy, and looked like he'd gotten literally zero hours of sleep.) You observed the hickeys on his neck, but decided to think nothing of it as you met his gaze with a stern look of your own. (Look at the balls on you, eh?)

"Steve, you look upset. Do you want to talk about it?" Bad move on your behalf, but you didn't so much as look as he clenched his jaw and fists, narrowing his eyes at you angrily.

You noticed the way Tony cringed, and the way Stephen held back a sigh. Your heart rate monitor beep faster, but you didn't visibly react in any other way. The panic in your chest was still there, but it was growing quieter in comparison to your quickly growing rage.

"You might as well tell me when my funeral is, cause y'all look like you're gonna kill me." You sighed, trying to lighten up because for some reason they couldn't. This had been far from the first time you'd passed out from an anxiety attack, so how was this time different? Did you actually die this time? (If so, why the fuck would they care?)

You heard a sigh come from behind you, which caused you not to flinch, but instead slowly look behind the stretcher as much as you could manage. It was Bruce, Natasha, Clint (who honestly look pretty happy and amused), T'challa, Rhodey, a pouting Wade Wilson, and finally, the infamous Nicholas Fury.