Lieutenant - Daughter of the Captain

Chapter 37.0 - PB & J?

Steve sat in the quinjet, still reeling. He watched as Tony sat Carter on a stretcher, and belted her down while Jarvis began scanning her vitals.
He continued watching her chest rise and fall as Clint brought the quinjet into the skies and they took off towards some unknown safehouse.  

He waited for her to open her eyes. To twitch. To move...even once. 

He waited the whole flight.

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Light shone in front of Carter's closed lids, and she felt a deep headache settle in her temples the second she awoke.

She could hear what sounded like plastic being lightly snapped and clattered together, as well as distant voices flooding in from another room.

What was worse than her headache, was the weak writhing of her powers, their chaotic fluidity wanted to escape but they didn't have the energy to. It was a deep kind of exhaustion, that settled in her limbs- the kind you felt in your chest rather than in your mind. 

She opened her eyes, and rays of sunlight streaked across the room. On her side, she spotted the brightly colored toys and aged wooden floor that the sunlight illuminated.

As well as a little girl who sat playing amongst them.

She had dark hair and blemishless skin. She was peacefully building some unidentifiable shape with random, multicolored lego blocks on the floor. 

Carter could tell the girl was a bit younger than herself, probably close to seven.

As she sat upon the worn couch, the girl's head snapped to look at her.

"Wait here! I'll go get my dad," She said abruptly, abandoning her legos so fast that the shape fell apart when it hit the floor.

Carter blinked, but shrugged to herself, looking around the room and out the window. She observed the soft grass and thick woods outside, the sturdy wood walls of the house that had seen plenty of wear and tear as well as obvious remodels and repairs over the years.

Then she spotted the bow and quiver casually propped against the armchair across the room. The photos hanging above of a familiar man- only in these he wore civilian clothes. He was a regular person, laughing with a woman and two children. 

He was a father. 

"I don't have a girlfriend..."

She chuckled at the memory, identifying the small similarities between Clint and the little girl- and the boy she noticed in some of the frames. 

"Hey, kid..." Clint said as he entered from what she figured was the kitchen- based on the counter and sink she could see. She noticed a plate with a sandwich that looked suspiciously like peanut butter and jelly in his free hand- the other gripping the small hand of the girl...his daughter.

"Hey..." She responded, and gratefully accepted the plate when he handed it to her. She also quickly decided to let him explain when he was ready as she dug into the delicacy, her stomach growling in anticipation. 

"Your dad told mommy it was your favorite. It's my favorite too, so I helped her make it for you. I like it cut in triangles, but daddy said you would be too hungry to wait for mommy to cut it," The girl spoke with barely a breath between statements. Clint chuckled as Carter blinked at the child, she was grateful she hadn't needed to read her lips in that instance, she definitely would've missed at least half of that.

She racked her brain for something to say, and what popped out was:

"I'm supposed to be allergic to peanuts,"