𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 ² | [𝖘•𝖗] 𝖆𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖌𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖆

ೃ⁀➷xliii. ғɪᴠᴇ sᴛᴀʀ ʜᴏᴛᴇʟ

1 month later
≫ ──── ««•◦ ✪ ◦•»» ──── ≪

IT WAS A wild couple of weeks. Disaster unleashed after they were broken out of the Raft, and the government was tearing the world apart to capture and get them back inside the cells.

Wanda had been lucky, she and Vision managed to free themselves from the hands of the government and move over to another corner in the world, though (Y/N) made her promise to sent any updates on her status, since she wanted to make sure she was safe at all times.

Scott and Clint were the unfortunate ones. Both were taken into house arrest, which meant that they were both forced to be stuck with an electronic device wrapped in their ankle that would alert the government if they left their homes. (Y/N) was still in contact with Clint, obviously, and he always told her the latest mischievous acts his children did everyone he called.

(Y/N) couldn't say the same for Scott. She knew he was back in his home at San Francisco, not being able to leave his home, but she wasn't able to keep in contact with him. The last thing she ever did with him was signing a paper with her name, since Scott had told her it would be a gift for his daughter Cassie.

Steve, Sam, Natasha and her, who didn't have nowhere else to go, stuck together since the start; jumping from place to place each time someone got suspicious of them, not being able to have a nice rest for the sleepless nights they had to stay in the cold.

Through the complications, the quartet was able to find a motel in the outsides of a small town in Europe, where no one even spared them a glance as they approached the lobby with bags under their eyes, bruises and bandages.

"Room for 4?" the person from the lobby asked. He was scrawny, had a funny beard but his eyes were barely open from the missing sleep. (Y/N) thought she probably looked the same way.

"Yes, please," Steve answered from the group.

The man handed the key to their room and the quartet rushed to the outside of the lobby to find their respective room, searching through the numbers on the doors until Natasha found it. Finally, they were going to be able to sleep.

When Natasha opened the door, everyone's expressions dropped at the sight. It wasn't that small of a room, though the furniture inside looked like it's been through a lot. The walls were dirty and the paper was tearing off, the couch seemed though it hadn't been washed in centuries and the smell wasn't that pleasant.

"Home sweet home," (Y/N) said sarcastically, receiving a glare from her sister.

Sam collapsed on the itchy and dirty couch from the center of the room, staring at the box television in front of him with annoyance, rubbing the tiredness in his eyes.