"And they tell you that you're lucky
But you're so confused,
'Cause you don't feel pretty, you just feel used
And all the young things line up to take your place."

The Lucky One by Taylor Swift

Easton Stark was never at a loss for words.

Never in her entire eighteen years of life had the young girl ever not had a witty comment or sarcastic eye roll to add to a conversation, and I mean never.

But here she was stood on what she could only in her mind comprehend as a giant floating deck, trying to understand why she of all people was being recruited for the Avengers Initiative.

Easton in her own mind was vanilla, normal; a typical teenager who practically lived to lay in bed till past noon with a packet of cheetos and a whole boxset of Gilmore Girls re-runs. She most certainly wasn't meant to be out there saving the world alongside Earth's 'mightiest heroes' giving countless high fives and cheesy poster-girl smiles as they zoomed off into the sunset.

She took a moment to take in the madness surrounding her, and for a moment she swore she'd never felt more bewildered in her entire life. Sure, she'd read up on S.H.I.E.L.D countless times and had decoded more confidential files than Phil Coulson could care to imagine, but never had she seen anything as bizarre as this.

She felt like she'd gone deaf with the amount of commotion onboard, and once she heard her voice being called across the platform she turned to find Phil Coulson accompanied by America's dishiest hero - Captain America. She and Phil had bonded previously over their love for the hero, giggling over how incredible they thought him to be.

And for Easton, considering this guy was in his 90s, he was a total babe.

Wow look at his hair. His body. His everything. Easton thought. It looks like he was carved out of marble like a Greek God, now that's a tourist attraction I could stare at constantly. And those shoulders, is this even possible? He's a lab experiment I'd be happy to carry out. Sign me up if this is one of the perks that comes with the job, I'll be in at 9am sharp every single morning.

Easton's mind was distracted by Steve Rogers, who put his hand out in confusion and began to introduce himself.

"Steve Rogers," he spoke, "you must be Stark."

Easton couldn't quite believe America's patriot knew who she was - there were boys in her class who she'd known since first grade that didn't even know who she was. But this was different, as Steve Rogers looked like he'd just popped out of a Tommy Hilfiger catalogue, and most of the boys in her grade it seemed couldn't even spell catalogue.

"Y-Yeah, Stark," she swooned, "but obviously not Tony Stark because that's just, I mean, I'm not-wait! I'm Easton Stark, sir. The daughter."

She wanted to die right there in that moment. She wanted the ground to swallow her up and spit her out into oblivion. She wanted for her throat to be cut so she could never embarrass herself like that ever again. Basically, she wanted a do-over.

She could imagine it, a second chance: "Easton Stark, pleased to make your extremely handsome acquaintance!" But in Easton's life there simply was no do-overs. She was constantly reminded that she was the human embodiment of social suicide.

"Uhm, right," Rogers half-smiled, probably wondering why this girl was being trusted to save the world from Asguardian terrors when she couldn't even string a proper sentence together.

Phil simply just laughed from beside her, making Easton cringe with utter embarrassment - smooth, Easton. Very smooth.

Easton couldn't take a bigger sigh of relief than when Natasha joined the group, as now all attention on her monumental meet and greet fuck-up with America's sexiest patriot was diverted onto the red head beside her.

Natasha was simply exquisite; beautiful; badass; smart; sassy; confident. She was everything Easton seemed to lack, and boy didn't she know it. Easton had spent much of her time during her fathers escapades thinking of how much she aimed to be like Natasha, but somehow she never matched up to the Black Widow herself.

"Hey kid, how's tricks?" Nat spoke to Easton, jabbing her side as she went making her jump. The two had always had this level of understanding, a bond between two women who deep down just wanted to be accepted and taken away from their dark pasts.

"Tricks are for kids," Easton spoke back with a smirk, "and by the looks of things I'm an avenger now."

Why wasn't it this easy with Rogers? Easton thought.

"And how does your Father feel about the initiative?" Nat teased back, cocking her brow.

Even though S.H.I.E.L.D had aimed to recruit Easton for the initiative, her Father was always wary of the organisation. Sure his old man had worked with them for years in his prime, but the thought of his only girl in danger took him right back to that night in Miami, and he couldn't loose her too. He just couldn't.

"Let's just say I still need him to sign my permission slip first," she mumbled, hanging her head while Natasha chuckled from beside her.

"Thought so."

Easton was taken away from the thought when Doctor Bruce Banner arrived beside them, already talking to the Captain about the mission ahead. Once he caught sight of Easton, he stepped forward.

"You're Stark's girl, right?" He asked, squinting at the girl partly due to the winds on board.

"Unfortunately," she spoke, taking his hand and trying her best to force a smile to which he awkwardly reciprocated.

"Your Grandfather started this, you've practically inherited your spot here," Banner commented, remembering the girls history from the brief files Natasha had shown him earlier, "I guess you're the lucky one."

Easton looked around the group, realising how out of place she felt in an organisation practically created by her family. Was this normal? She could see the intelligence of Banner, but also the vulnerability that would make Hulk thrive in battle. She could see the warrior in Natasha, a woman who worked to forget the hardships of her early life. She could see the drive and professionalism in Rogers, and how he strived to honour those who he outlived.

She in that moment felt the world at her disposal, but somehow couldn't grasp it.

She felt the lack of her mother, the loneliness of her childhood, the pain of her moments with Obadiah - she felt everything but what a superhero should feel.

"I just shoot arrows in my basement," she muttered almost in shame, feeling as though she wasn't quite ready for the battle to come.

________________________________

Hey guys!

Sorry I haven't updated in donkeys years, I've been so busy I've barely had chance to pick up my laptop and write!

But still, pity party for Easton, right?

Until next time,

Em x x x