Clint took me to the kitchen, where I expected to see the rest of the Avengers, but only Tony was sitting at the island. He looked up when we came in.

"How's your shoulder?" Second time in fifteen minutes.

"It's fine." I mumbled. His body language was just as hard to read a Clints was. It was making me feel uneasy, like at any moment there was going to be a surprise attack. The door was right behind me, so tempting, almost taunting, but in my condition I wouldn't make it down the hall before someone drug me back.

"Cho said her arm would be fine in a week." Clint said, rummaging through the fridge.

I realized I was just standing in the middle of the room and suddenly felt like a lone island hundreds of miles from any other land.

"Here, come sit down." Tony offered, pulling out a chair.

I tentatively crossed the room and sat down next to him.

"So why'd you decide to become a vigilante?" He asked.

Why did I decide to become a vigilante? It was fun? No. It was something new? No.

"Um..." I started, unsure. "Because I could help with at least some things."

"Well, that is in character," Tony said. "Since that's what you were doing when you met Steve."

It wasn't really, but I didn't contradict him.

Clint slid a plate of leftover pizza towards me and I quickly put some in my mouth so no one would ask me anymore questions. The silence that followed was super uncomfortable, but I've always prefered uncomfortable over terrifying.

Once I had finished, they surprisingly didn't ask me any more questions. Instead Clint just told me I would stay in the guest bedroom and I was too drained to argue.

"If you need anything I'm the third door on the left." He said. "And you can ask FRIDAY too." He turned to leave and then turned back. "Oh and Kira? None of us were angry, we were just... concerned. This isn't something kids can just do. Hell even Avengers can't do it. But with all that said it is kind of...impressive."

Concerned? Were they really?

He tapped the door frame. "Good night." I nodded and he left, closing the door leaving me alone with my echoing thought.

What was there to be impressed about? All I had done was fight petty crime and tonight I hadn't done anything except get stabbed by debris and expose myself. How is that impressive? And why were they concerned? How could they be concerned?

Why shouldn't they be angry? I'm an unknown threat, they should be trying to kill me. I should be in a cell, not a bedroom. Why not? Why?

Maybe it is a cell.

I couldn't think about it. I wouldn't think about it. Maybe they were going to kill me, maybe the door was locked, I didn't want to know the answers to those, I was too tired.

I flopped onto the bed, it was big, about four times the size of mine at home and I immediately noticed the lack of groaning it did under my weight, it was almost like it was conforming to my body. It was warm, like my mother. I drifted off into a dreamless black for once I was too tired to even have a nightmare.

I awoke when the sun angled in through the blinds to flash across my closed eyes. For a moment there was blind panic in which I tried to figure out where I was, until I jerked my arm and the pain brought back all the memories.

I groaned wishing I was still asleep, with the blissful fantasy of ignorance. Now I was awake and the true reckoning was about to come and I couldn't put it off much longer.

I slid out of bed onto the carpet. It wasn't hard and matted like in my bedroom, instead it was thick and shaggy, I kind of liked it. My toes scrunched feeling it shift beneath my feet. The rest of the room was just as luxurious, and there were two doors that I hadn't really noticed last night.

I opened one, it led into a mostly empty walk-in closet aside from some stock accessories like blankets and boxes.

The other one was a white crystalline bathroom, with marble floors and rose gold accents.

I used the sink to wash my face and scrub off the majority of the blood and dirt. around the other parts of my skin that were showing. Now at least I didn't look too much like a hobo.

I sighed, I couldn't couldn't keep putting this off. "Um, FRIDAY?"

"Yes, Ms. Emerson? How may I help you?" Okay, so she does respond to me.

"What time is it?"

"It is currently 10:07 A.M.." Ten?! Was it really that late? "I was instructed to tell you once you awoke that there would be breakfast in the kitchen."

With nothing else to do I left, following my mental map back to the kitchen. I luckily didn't run into anyone on my way there, but as I got closer I could hear soft mutterings coming from the room. I picked out three distinct voices, Steve, Clint and Natasha. I turned around, there was an elevator just down the hall. Would it let me out? Not unless FRIDAY would and she obeyed Stark.

Reluctantly I turned back to the kitchen and walked in. Steve was sitting on a couch against the wall with Natasha and Clint. They all looked up when I walked in, they had clearly been talking about me and now I wished I had listened in on them before jumping in neck deep.

"Did you sleep well?" Natasha asked, looking as passive as ever.

"Yes ma'am."

"Do you want some breakfast?" Steve offered, getting up and walking over to the table, where eggs and waffles were sitting.

Was this a trick question? After everything he was asking if I wanted to eat? This is so complicated.

"Sure. I mean, if it's okay."

"Of course it's fine." Clint said, joining Steve. "I was just about to eat anyway." He guided me to a seat and sat down beside me.

"I thought you already ate." Natasha said.

"I only ate a little, and besides...waffles." He replied like it explained everything.

I felt way more uncomfortable sitting next to him now then I did before. I was excruciatingly aware of our proximity. At any moment he might decide to pull a knife out of his boot and stab me. Was this normal? Do the Avengers always play mental games?

I realized my breath was coming too fast, too short. I focused. In out, in out. Just like when shooting a rifle.

Steve sat down across from us and Clint passed me the plate of waffles.I took one, watching what he did and following suit.

"So, I was thinking," Steve said. Never a good start to a conversation. "You should join us for training and stuff."

I hiccuped. Did he just ask me to train with them? That didn't even make sense. Or, it did if they wanted to keep me close. But why would they do that when they could just deal with me right now? Or last night for that matter. I hate this game of suspense.

"Just on Tuesday afternoons or something? So we can help you out when you need it."

"Uh..." What do I say? I can't come once my father's back, that's an immediate death sentence.

"If that's a problem then maybe we can change days?" Natasha suggested.

They weren't going to let me out of this. "Um, I think Tuesdays will work for a little bit." Not a lie.

"Great." Clint said. "Now you guys need to stop asking questions, so she can actually eat."

I looked over at his plate, which was already empty where he was carefully waterboarding my waffle with maple syrup.

I picked up my fork and ate without complaint, which Natasha and Steve seemed to take as a signal and left. Once I had eaten the waffle, Clint asked if I wanted more, but as hungry as I was I wasn't going to push my luck.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Clint leapt out of his chair. My adrenaline spiked and I jumped back three steps, but he didn't notice, he had already left the room. What did he forget? Was it bad? It was probably bad.

Breathe. I told myself. Just breathe.

A minute later Clint came back carrying a backpack. My backpack. Was there incriminating evidence in there?

I opened my mouth willing myself to say something, anything, but before I could Clint did.

"I thought you might want this back." I let out a very relieved, very quiet sigh and deflated. He handed me the backpack and I began to rifle through it, looking for my phone. I pulled it from the bottom and checked the messages, I could only hope my father hadn't come back yet.

I had a text from him this morning.

Father

I assume you already got a job.

Oh, crap! I forgot about that! I hadn't even started looking!

Kira

Yes, though I haven't started it yet.

What's one more little lie? It's not like I could be killed twice or in this case twelve times.

"Everything okay?" Clint asked. He was frowning a bit. Crap, I did it again, I'd made him angry.

"Oh, yes, sorry." I stumbled out. "I-Um, I forgot I had to do something."

His countenance didn't change much, but I did detect a slight shift towards understanding.

"Anyway, I've been meaning to ask," I steeled myself. "....How'd you get your... abilities?" I'd known this was coming, I'd been dreading it, but I also had an explanation ready.

I took a deep breath and started slowly. "When I lived in France about three years ago, someone kidnapped me off the streets for some psycho-science project, but apparently they had really bad timing, because right after everything one of their rivals busted down the doors, killed all the scientists and destroyed all the findings."

Clint was sitting on the edge of the table looking confused and weirded out.

"You just said that like it was the most mundane explanation you've ever made."

I grimaced slightly. "well... it was three years ago."

"Was there any other...." He searched for the word.

"Nope, just me."

"Hmmm." He hummed. I crossed my fingers, hopefully he bought it. It was at least half true, I had gotten injected in France, I just wasn't kidnapped off the streets, but afterwards my father did burn everything to the ground.

"What was it you needed to do?"

"What?"

"You said there was something you forgot you had to do." He elaborated.

"I-uh, have some homework I need to do." More lies.

"Oh, you probably need to get back home then," he said. "Come on, I'll drive you."

And just like that he had driven me home without complaint or threat. Once I was in my room I just sat down on the bed. It was almost like I had just woken up from a dream, like maybe none of it had been real. I sat like that for an hour, not thinking, not moving. I had screwed up so royally and I wasn't dead, I wasn't even locked away or otherwise bruised.

I numbly changed clothes and left the house in search of someone willing to hire a teenager.

A/N

Thank you guys so much for sticking around!! 

The story is finally getting somewhere, and belive me there is a lot thats gonna unfold. 

Comments and votes keep me alive! (And spite, but we don't talk about that)