Chapter Twenty - Experimental Music

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        "Phil?

        "Sophie?" He asks.

        "Yeah."  I hear him swear under his breath.

       "Where's Natasha?" He asks after a moment.

        "You're alive."

       "Sophie. Where is Natasha." He asks in a harsher tone.

        "I saw you get stabbed. I saw you die."

    "SOPHIE!" Phil yelled over the phone, shocking me out of my trance. "Where is Natasha?"

        "Asleep. We were all watching movies in Tony's movie room and everyone fell asleep but me. I think it's because of all the sugar I had. Anyways, I was picking up a little of the mess when Nat's phone started to vibrate, except she didn't wake up. I looked and saw that it was called emergency only, so I figured that if I picked it up and it was important that I would wake Nat up." I spoke quickly, and was greeted with an uncomfortable silence. "How are you alive?" I whisper. "Why wasn't I told?!" I ask, voice getting louder. "No, no, I don't believe this. This isn't happening. You're dead.        

        "I'm fine. I was clinically dead for eight seconds, but I was revived." He said.

        "I still don't believe this. I would have been told." I say, stressing the word told.

        "It wasn't up to me. It was up to Clint and Natasha."

        "Clint knows too?" I asked, hurt in my voice. 

        "They were both informed after the attack on New York. Fury knew that if he kept it from them, they would give him hell to pay, or possibly quit." Though I knew that this was true, I was surprised that he didn't think that I would do the same.

        "What did you mean when you said it was up to Clint and Nat?" I ask. He sighed.

        "When Fury told them that I was alive, he also told them that it was up to them when to tell you about me. None of the other avengers are allowed to know though." He said, sounding tired.

        "Are you telling me, that for the past THREE MONTHS they could have mentioned that you were alive?! The two people who know me better than most, could have told me that the man who I thought of like a father was alive?!" I was almost yelling now, and I was thankful that I had left the theater.

        "Sophie, breathe." Phil said, as he knew that I was glowing with anger. I took a couple deep breaths, turning my skin back to its normal color. "Okay, It's late. How about we meet up in a few days so that I can explain things? Remember that coffee shop that we went to last year? Before the you went to work for Eric?"

        "I remember."

        "Good. How about we meet there Thursday at two?"

        "Okay. Sounds good. Then I can see if I'm dreaming or not." I say, and I am rewarded with a laugh from Phil.        

        "Good night, Sophie."

        "Night Phil." I said, and the line goes dead. I stand there for a moment before slowly going inside and putting the phone back where I found it. I turn around and start walking back towards the door, heading for my room, when I hear a voice behind me.

        "Sophie? What are you doing up?" I turn to see Clint looking at me from the recliner he was in. I shoot him a glare and leave the room, but not before seeing his confused expression.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


        "Come on Sophie! Talk to me!" Clint begged. I shot him a glare, and went back to eating my breakfast. We were currently the only two in the kitchen, and he wouldn't get the message. I do not want to talk to him. I don't even want to look at him. "I don't even know what I did wrong!" He shouts, slamming his hand down on the table. I don't even look up, which makes him even more frustrated.

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