chapter v.
(   avengers   )

sound of the drums beating in my heart
the  thunder   of  guns   tore  me   apart
you've             been           thunderstruck
thunderstruck — ac/dc

germany
may 3, 2012

"Agent Romanoff, you miss me?" Dad's voice blares over the sound of AC/DC's "Shoot to Thrill".

Fire trails us as we fly through the darkened, German sky. We glide past the quinjet and Dad fires both thrusters against the man towering in the middle of the square. Loki. His body snaps back and crashes against the steps as he yells out at the hard contact. Dad and I land on the ground as his metal boots heavily pound down against the pavers and my feet jog a bit to slow me down. Dad rises from his bent position to join me in facing him. Dad raises his arms and various targets set upon our newest enemy, the monster in my thoughts, the demon in my head. I stand a few feet behind Dad just like I promised, but I do my best to look just as intimidating.

I don't care what Loki's done. I'm not scared anymore. I'm downright furious.

As the song screams out, Dad quips, "Make your move, Reindeer Games."

I smirk at the mocking of Loki's ridiculous helmet with curved horns. It's funny, but I have to resist the urge to laugh. Now is not the time. The man in the red, white, and blue suit adjusts a star-marked shield on his arm and walks up beside my father, irritatedly. Loki's armor suddenly fades away as his arms raise carefully, but there is still a sour expression on his face.

"Good move," Dad's arms lower mechanically.

The man in red, white, and blue breathes heavily before tilting his head towards Dad, "Mr. Stark."

Dad barely acknowledges him, "Captain.

Well, this is awkward.

I step around the two of them and very roughly pull Loki to his feet. Ignoring his intrigued smirk sent in my direction, I take his hands and lock handcuffs around his pale wrists. As I lift my head to level with him, I'm taken aback by how deeply he stares at me. Now, clearly, I've faced my fair share of psychopaths who have it out for me and for my father, but something about this one man makes me feel very personally affronted. After the facility and then after him taking over my mind, it really is becoming clear that this is more than it seems.

But what the heck could it be?

His terrifyingly blue eyes give a snake's smirk and I realize how my face must be looking. Purely and simply shocked. Swallowing, I angrily grit my teeth and step back so that a few agents can take him up onto the now landed quinjet.

"Lees." Dad's glowing eyes meet mine as he tries to sound nonchalant, "You good?"

"Average." I shrug, "Not terrible, not terrific, just... average." I wink before going after the agents heading for the quinjet.

Dad follows me closely as the man in the red, white, and blue comes after us. Three pairs of feet walk up the ramp and, when I glance around the jet, I find Natasha Romanoff sitting in the pilot's seat. As if she could sense our presence, she swivels in her chair and pulls her headphones down so that she can hear us.

"Hey, Kiddo, it's been a hot minute!" The redhead smiles brightly.

"You're not joking," I smile back as she stands hugs me, "How long has it been since we last saw each other?"

"Three? Four months?" she says thoughtfully, tilting her head ever so slightly.

Well, I guess it hasn't been too long, but we've grown pretty close over the past year. I mean, it has to be pretty close when Natasha Romanoff actually hugs you. She's become this certain role in my life that I appreciate: a friend, an aunt, and nearly a second mother of sorts. When I need advice that I'm too embarrassed to talk to Dad about, it's both her and Pepper that I go to. If I need instruction on something that Pepper and Dad might not exactly like, I ask it of her. Even with being a weapons maker's daughter, it was still Natasha that taught me how to shoot my first gun. Though I'd never ask or even dare to mention it, I just get this feeling that a deep part of Natasha Romanoff longs for one. A child, I mean. I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong.

But I also think that there is something about going through a life or death experience with someone that makes you really become friends with them. Besides, I don't hate her now that I know she's not actually interested in Dad. It was all part of her cover and I can respect that. She checks in on me as much as she can. It's not overly often, maybe about every other week or so if she's very busy, but I can't really blame her because she's probably doing some cool super-spy stuff.

"It's good to see you, Short Stuff." She pulls back and gives me a stern face, "How you holdin' up?"

The facility. She knows. So much for Fury saying to tell no one. For someone who gives a lot of orders, he doesn't seem to follow them very often himself.

I squirm into a shrug, "I'm good. Ready and willing. Grown up, actually! Which is something someone," I jerk my chin over my shoulder, "isn't so willing to swallow."

She gives me a confident nod in reply before looking me over and saying to Dad, "Tony, she's looking older even from when I last saw her."

I grin over my shoulder at my father whose face mask is now pulled back.

He scoffs, looking out the window, "Nope."

I roll my eyes before giving Natasha a very knowledgeable nod, "He's in a permanent state of denial. He doesn't want to believe that I'm going to be officially an adult in two years."

"That or he's senile, one of the two," she jabs before promptly returning to her seat and lifting the quinjet off of the ground.

I laugh lightly and return to Dad's side as he still stares out the window, "You're not too wounded by our insults, are you?"

He playfully ignores me before jerking his head back at me and giving me a grin. I smile back and then I remember that we're not alone. My eyes trail back to the man in red, white, and blue and I realize that I am still struggling to admit to myself who he actually is.

I mean, there are no words. That man is, well, you know who. The super soldier of the 1940s. America's New Hope. The Star Spangled Man with a Plan. The Sentinel of Liberty. The Greatest Soldier in History. The World's First Superhero. The hero of my grandfather. The constant reminder of my grandfather ignoring my father.

Dad has stopped looking pleasant as he was with me only a few moments ago. He is scowling into space with a set jaw and nearly narrowed eyes. He keeps a levelheaded stance to him as he tilts his head back slightly and his fingers periodically tap the wall near us. The man in the red, white, and blue looks uncomfortable and a little irritated himself.

Deciding to be brave and slice the tension, I clear my throat and put out my hand towards him, "Lisa Stark."

His crystal clear beautiful baby blues turn their majestic gaze on me and I think I'm suffering from a severe case of awe, "Steve Rogers. Nice to meet you. "

I think I might die.

Steve Rogers. Steven Rogers. Steven Grant Rogers. Steve. Rogers. Captain Rogers. Cap Rogers. Cap'n. Cap. Cap Rog. Whoa. Okay. Dude, I need to relax and take a breather. It's not like I'm fangirling or anything. I'm just like, you know, historian-girling. Wait, is that the same thing? No. Yes? Nevermind, forget it.

He shakes my hand with a firm but not too firm grip. My hand seems so tiny and frail in his big and strong one. I internally scream as I shake Captain America's hand. This is momentous. This is life-changing. I am serious, this is the most important day of my life. Mark it on the calendar and consider my life fulfilled because I am literally shAKING CAPTAIN AMERICA'S HAND. Oh Lordie, I need to pull it together. Somehow I manage to play it off cool as I keep a kind but reserved smile on my face.

"You knew my grandfather, didn't you?" I regret it as soon as I say it.

I literally just thought about how my grandfather went on and on about how amazing this man was while he constantly told my father he was never good enough. My father was always compared to him. By my grandfather. Who I just brought up. In front of my father. Oh, sweet Jesus, give me strength.

I can see Dad's jaw clench a little tighter out of the corner of my eye.

"I did." Steve Rogers nods with the look of memory in his eyes, "Howard was a good man."

I shrug, obviously unimpressed by my grandfather for more than just my dad's sake, "I don't remember too much of him. He was never around and then he died when I was three."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that," Steve seems genuinely apologetic as his blonde brows dip and his blue eyes fill with sorrow, "I had heard that he passed away, but I wasn't really thinking about,"

"No, no, it's fine." I assure him, "I was just making small talk, which I now regret... immensely."

Steve raises a confused eyebrow and Dad squints at me.

"Not that I didn't enjoy talking to you!" I quickly blurt out in a panic, "Because I did, Captain Steve, er-Rogers, American Sir!" Stop talking. "Because believe me buddy, I did!" Please, stop talking! "I just have this horrible habit of making things awkward-," Oh dEAR GOD, stop talking! "Which I sort of happens to be what I'm doing right now, actually-,"

"Lisa." Dad finally cuts in, having taken his good ol' time to save me.

"Yep." I clear my throat awkwardly, noting that the tension is just as thick as, if not more than, before as I avoid Steve's eyes, "Um, well, I just wanted to introduce myself."

The heavens hate me, and now I want immediate death.

I painfully duck away and sadly make my way down the hull of the quinjet. I'm not really sure where I'm headed, but hopefully it's somewhere I can launch myself directly out of the back of this aircraft.

Loki casually sits on the bench attached to the wall of the quinjet, hands still cuffed probably a little too tightly. I can't find it within myself to be sorry. God, I'm still seething. His eyes follow me as I begin to pass by.

"You know," his voice makes me visibly cringe as my boots come to a stop, "little girls should not run around in such dangerous places. They could get hurt."

The air gets sucked out of the quinjet and silence lengthens for a moment. I'm not sure anyone really knows how to respond. He's been silent this whole time and now he decides to speak, and with an insult sent in my direction? Trying to not let my anger get the better of me, my fingers quickly rub against the metal disks of my thrusters. It usually calms me down, but it's not doing a very good job at the moment. I can hear Dad's footsteps moving in our direction and I inwardly sigh. I don't want this man to think that I can't stand up for myself. Slowly turning to face him, I give Loki my best death stare as I raise an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry, I'm the little girl?" delicious sass just drips from my tongue, "Let's take a look around, shall we? Out of the two of us, who's the one pouting and sitting in timeout?"

Dad halts his moving and eyes us carefully, but there's amusement on his face. Steve is standing a little straighter than before, watching on as well. Natasha doesn't even glance over her shoulder, but I can tell she's listening by the way her shoulders are suddenly much straighter and more taut than before.

Loki smirks as if he has me completely figured out, "Does your age shame you?"

"Does your face shame you?"

Well, that was the worst comeback of the century. I mentally facepalm. I'm ashamed of myself really. I've let the Stark name down. Dad tries to keep a neutral face and position, but I can just see him rolling his eyes and sighing. I clear my throat and decide that I need to try to redeem myself. I bend forward, making my eyes level with Loki's, trying to show some spunk.

"Listen, Rudolph, I think it might be best if you keep your big red nose out of my business," Dad stifles a chuckle and I'm glad that I haven't failed him completely, "because, after what's happened, my business will be just thrilled to kick your little booty all the way back to Asgard. Got it?"

Suddenly his handcuffed hands grab onto my collar and he yanks me even closer to him. I feel panic shoot up through me and memories flash in my head; memories that I have worked so hard to move on from. I'm too shocked to even react as my wide eyes stare at his terrifying face. I hear quick, harsh movement behind me, but the world seems to slow down. It's almost as if time has given him his chance to speak.

Loki cocks his head a little, but keeps an infuriating smirk on his thin lips, "I thought you'd appreciate at least someone showing interest."

What's that supposed to mean?

A firm hand moves to tear me back from him, but, before it can, I throw a swift and angry fist that crosses Loki's jaw. My knuckles sting, but I don't show any reaction to my pain as my hand follows through and his head snaps to the side. I feel my back press against Dad's chest as he pulls me back and glares down at Loki. My blue eyes narrow as Loki spits out blood and then laughs a little.

"Oh, a father's daughter?" Loki amusedly asks Dad before looking back at me, "Isn't that just what he wants you to believe?"

There's a lump in my throat and my chin tilts to the side in confusion.

Dad barely contains his rage as he threatens, "Go near her or talk to her again, and your tongue will be laying out on the floor in front of you."

That's a little disturbing.

I scowl as Loki continues to lowly laugh and then raises his handcuffed hands in mock surrender. Dad roughly moves me away from him, still caught up in the moment. We end up standing back next to Steve who relaxes just a little now that I'm away from the madman. Natasha finally glances back, slightly narrows her eyes at Loki, and then focuses back on the sky ahead of us. I suddenly feel, I'm not certain, lost? I'm not sure what he meant in any of what he said and I'm not sure whether to be more infuriated with him or me. Yes, he insulted and grabbed me, but I allowed him to wedge into my thoughts and rile me up.

I hurriedly turn from everyone in the quinjet and lean my shoulder against the wall so that I can have a quick moment of privacy. I can hear my blood pumping in my ears and I can feel my heart thudding against my ribcage, just begging to be released. My hands are trembling, but I can't tell if it's out of anger or fear. I slowly spread them out in front of my eyes and watch as the zero-dialed thrusters flicker with small sparks of white light and the wires in my wrists glow ever so slightly.

What is wrong with me? I was doing so well. Why can't I just hold myself together for more than five minutes? Some guy makes a move and says a few harsh comments, and then I'm sent back to the start.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I swallow hard and my fingers curl into fists.

Get yourself together, Lees.

"Hey, Smalls," I feel Dad's hand rest gently on my arm, "You okay?"

I quickly turn back to face them, straightening my shoulders and nodding my head in the process.

I immediately clip my words out, "Yep. I'm good."

Dad can see through my slight facade, but he doesn't say anything. He just nods in agreement, keeping a stoic expression. Steve watches me a little confused and a little concerned. At the attention, I feel heat rise to my cheeks. God, I just wish I hadn't even come at all. It would have been much simpler and less embarrassing that way. Dad brushes a few strands of brown hair that has slipped out of my braid behind my ear with a small, encouraging smile. I press my lips into an obviously fake, unhappy smile and nod again, making sure to add some extra sternness to it. When his smile drops, Dad turns back to glare at Loki as Steve moves around, getting antsy.

Steve narrows his eyes and glances back at our prisoner who is back to sitting quietly, "I don't like it."

"What?" Dad asks, unimpressed, "Rock of Ages giving up so easily to us back at the square?"

Steve lowly says back, "I don't remember it being ever that easy," Dad blinks and raises his eyebrows a bit before Steve continues, "This guy packs a wallop."

A wallop? Why can't Steve just say that Loki punches hard? Golly jeepers, talk about 1940s slang. But, then again, I did just think "golly jeepers" and that's gotta be an ancient phrase too.

"Well, still, you are pretty spry, for an older fellow," Dad sniffs and nonchalantly looks over at Steve, "What's your thing? Pilates?"

My shoulders lift as I laugh a little, glad for the small distraction from Loki and myself.

"What?" Steve asks curtly with his expression slowly hardening once more.

"It's like calisthenics," Dad nods in explanation, "You might have missed a couple things, you know, doing time as a Capsicle."

My small smirk twists into a frown pointed in Dad's direction. It's a little funny, but not very nice. It's just a bit too insensitive, to say out loud, anyway.

Steve ignores his last statement in order to speak with a slightly cocked head and squinted eyes, "Fury didn't tell me he was calling you in."

Ah, Fury, my furry little friend.

"Yeah, there's a lot of things Fury doesn't tell you," Dad sounds almost bitter.

My brows furrow in guilt. I suppose I'd be ticked too if Fury randomly 'napped my kid on the side of the road and then inadvertently got her mind-controlled. I mean, I guess I can see where Dad is coming from. Sudden lightning streaks across the dark and ominous sky. Thunder cracks in what sounds like near anger and another streak of lightning licks the top of the quinjet.

"Where is this coming from?" Natasha asks, looking at the sky with a confused expression.

We all look around as the quinjet harshly shakes at the force. The walls surrounding us tremor like there is an earthquake in the sky and I see the crates set around bounce. My legs feel like jelly as floor beneath my feet trembles and I discreetly take Dad's arm to balance myself. My gaze finds Loki as he stares up at the ceiling with wide, concerned eyes.

"What's the problem with you, Big and Bad?" I call out as Steve and Dad follow my line of sight.

"Scared of a little lightning?" Steve questions with the same irritated look that I'm sporting.

"I'm not overly fond of what follows," Loki ambiguously informs us before looking back up with that same pained expression.

My brows furrow as I glance over at Dad, waiting for him to explain. His eyes slowly turn back to Steve and me. Okay, so we're all confused. Great. Suddenly there's a loud bang on the metal roof, and the quinjet jolts and shakes down.

Dad takes my arm to steady me as we all look up quickly. My stomach twists into knots and my chest feels a little tighter than before. Lightning and thunder continues to flash and roar. Steve moves for his shield as Dad puts on his helmet and I slowly dial up my thrusters while Natasha shifts warily in her seat.

Dad moves to the other side of the hull and presses a few buttons on the controls. The bomb bay doors open and we all stare out as if we're just waiting for something terrible to happen.

I have a bad feeling about this.

"What are you doing?!" Steve yells over the rushing wind.

A man suddenly lands on the open bomb bay doors with a heavy thud. I jump back instinctively before I realize that I actually recognize him from the files. Loki's entire face changes into one of fear as he watches the new man. As his blonde hair continues to whip around his face, the man looks up at us angrily and Dad moves to lift his arm. A large hammer slams into hard Dad's chest and I yell out in reaction. My father flies backwards and his metal body collides into Steve and me, taking us all down to the floor. We all tumble across the ground and watch helplessly as the man digs his hands into Loki and dives with him out of the plane.

Without a parachute.

My jaw drops and Dad groans as he and I stand up.

"Now there's that guy," he mumbles irritatedly.

"Another Asgardian?!" Natasha yells from the front.

Steve painfully stands, "Think the guy's a friendly?"

"Doesn't matter," Dad snaps, stalking over to the open bomb bay doors, "If he frees Loki or kills him, the Tesseract's lost."

"Stark, we need a plan of attack!" Steve yells and I look over at Dad, ready to hear what we're going to do.

"I have a plan," Dad glances over his shoulder, briefly pausing, "Attack."

'I like it. Simple. Easy to remember.' Oh, Jack Sparrow, he's always there to quote in our time of need.

Dad blasts out of the quinjet and I watch as he shoots down through the sky. It's a great plan and all, but he still has no idea what he could be getting into. This man seemed okay from the files, but I tend to not trust that so much anymore. Dad could be walking straight into an ambush and none of us would know it. Steve sighs in irritation and reaches for a parachute, like any smart person probably should.

Natasha flips a few switches on the control board, calling over her shoulder, "I'd sit this one out, Cap."

"I don't see how I can," Steve exasperatedly responds, latching the straps across his broad chest.

"These guys come from legends, they're basically gods."

"There's only one God, Ma'am," Steve says confidently, radiating patriotism and, um, American-ness, "And I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that."

Fair enough.

I tap the backs of my custom-made, black boots together and the small implanted thrusters that I have been building for months power up, "Alright, Captain, let's do this."

"Wait, you're not coming!" Steve looks down at me with wide eyes.

"Lisa! Sit down!" Natasha orders from the front, sounding nearly as stern as I heard her on the night of the Hammer Attack.

I walk backwards, smiling at them as a careless shrug lifts my shoulders, "I do what I want!"

My feet suddenly aren't standing on anything anymore and I'm falling through the air. Steve jumps out beside me and spreads his body out, clearly having done this before. Steve's going to take a little longer to get down so I know I'm going to be on my own for the time being. I blast the thrusters on both my hands and feet, turning my body around and following in the direction Dad went. The obnoxious sight of falling trees is naturally a dead giveaway. I fly by Loki who is actually taking a seat, watching my father and the strange man face off down below. Dad is just moving to get up when I shoot plasma at the big man's chest. He flies back and crashes into a tree with a harsh crunching noise. I land and my feet move a few steps to catch up with my fast pace. Dad flies by me and kicks the man with his metal boot, sending his body completely through the tall tree.

"You listen so well," Dad tells me sarcastically.

I don't have time for a snarky comeback because the man stretches out his hand and the hammer literally flies into his grasp. My jaw once more drops as he thrusts his hammer in the sky and lightning shoots down to connect with it. I dive out of the way as the man redirects his hammer and the lightning zaps my father. I throw a hard punch at the man, causing him to jerk in surprise. Dad stumbles, a little disorientated from the currents of electricity that were just coursing through him. The man easily dodges my second punch and he elbows me backwards a few feet. Dad raises both hands and I see bright white. The man flies back again, crashing against all that's in his path. Dad readies himself before they both fly up, colliding with each other. They go off, shooting far away in the distance.

"Oh, come on," I groan as I hurriedly try to follow them.

Before I can, however, they're back on the ground and throwing punches. The man catches both of Dad's arms and then his burly hands begin crushing his armor. I can see the red metal crunching and bending underneath his strong fingers. Wincing for my father's pain, I shoot the man in the side and he pulls back just enough for me to grab him. I try to hold him still so I can shoot again, but, instead, he grabs onto my collar and then he's headbutting me. Yes, headbutting. That is just so dirty. I careen back a few feet and then tumble head over heels.

That's it. I'm out. I'm done. I can see stars and I do not believe that is because it's nighttime. My world is spinning and I'm in a daze. I think I might be bleeding, but it's really hard to tell. I already have a massive headache.

I quietly moan as I roll onto my side to see them fighting again. Dad grabs onto the man's sides and then tosses him like a ragdoll. His back smashes into yet another tree and he falls to the ground. He's up again and running for Dad who throws a quick punch that's dodged. My vision fades in and out as the fight continues, each of them taking and giving hard hits.
"Hey!" their fighting suddenly comes to a halt when a shield snaps against their bodies and returns to Steve's hands, "That's enough!"

Thank goodness! Here is finally someone who will have enough sense to stop fighting. Steve leaps from the high, snapped tree and lands on his feet gracefully. Dad hesitantly glances at the man, but still lowers his arm. I have a hand pressed up against my aching head, but my eyes stay on the scene in front of me.

"Now, I don't know what you plan on doing here," Steve begins, still taking a defensive stance.

"I've come here to put an end to Loki's schemes!" the man angrily yells.

I find that I can see that that's fair, even though he just totally messed me up.

"Then prove it!" Steve breathes, "Put the hammer down."

"Um, yeah, no!" Dad shakes his head quickly and looks back at the man, "Bad call! He loves his hammer,"

Dad is suddenly smashed with said hammer against the chest, flying backwards as he occasionally crunches on the ground. I hurriedly crawl back so I don't get hit by his flying form, hearing him yell and grunt as he crashes to a stop.

"You want me to put the hammer down?!" the man roars.

Then he's leaping in the air and his big arms smash the hammer down against Steve's shield. The clang of the two metals erupts from around us and the earth and my body flees at the force. I feel wood splinters shooting by me and through my hair as I roll. I'm lying facedown in the dirt when I hear absolute silence. Another quiet moan escapes my lips as I push myself up and see that trees all around us have been blown down.

"God, this is so stupid," I irritatedly mumble, trying to push myself out of the dirt.

I hear Dad distantly groan as he shakily stands, taking a step steps right and left to find his balance. I'm still holding my aching head as I finally stumble to my feet. Steve stands up from behind his shield and the man moans a little as he gets up as well. We all slowly move back towards each other, breathing heavily as a few remaining pieces of matter flitter down.

"Are we done here?" Steve asks gruffly.

Well, that was exciting.

So, whaddya think? Did I do okay with bringing the other characters in? Such a fun fight scene though, oh man! And how about Loki's fascination with Lisa, huh? What do you think that's all about?

Spoiler-ish/Question for ma story:

I've been thinking about writing and sort of working a bit on more of one-shot kind of story for Lisa and Tony about what happened in those fourteen years of her growing up, what Tony thinks throughout different parts of the story line, some of his letters to her, a few other cute stories, and even some actiony/death scenes too (because, well, it's me). I'm sure I'll bring all of our favorite characters into them. Peggy is sure to make an appearance numerous times. Be sure to tell me if that sounds cool to you! Who would you like to see in it? I'd love hear what kind of scenes you'd like to see!