[2] Just A Lost Girl | Avallone the Avenger

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

I looked up at the big jet plane that was in the middle of the runway. It was the same runway we had arrived at, and it still looked as unkempt as ever. "Excited?" I asked Natasha who was practically bouncing on her toes. She looked at me, and nodded, her green eyes dancing with delight. I myself was happy, but mostly because her excitement was rubbing off on me.
"In just eight or nine hours, we'll be home." She said, clapping her hands together and giggling to herself. This Natasha is scaring me. I kind of want the old one back.
"Eight hours?" I askeed. Right now, it was five o'clock in the morning, Europe standard time. In New York, it would only be three in the morning. But, when we arrived, it would be eight, so it was pretty good.
Nat nodded. We stepped inside the jet, and took our seats. There was only four, but they were practically couches. It was so nice and rich feeling that I felt tired as soon as I sank into my chair.
"Gosh, Nat. I feel a good nap coming on." I said, yawning. She gave me a look and said, "Really Avallone? We are going home, and all you care about is your beauty sleep?"
I rolled my eyes. That wasn't it. She literally woke me up at half past three in the morning. Did she not expect me to be a little human, and be tired for once? By now, I was used to be awake all hours of the night, but I needed my sleep.
"It's not beau-"
"Shut up. You're not going to sleep at least for an hour, got it?" She demanded, folding her arms. The old Nat was back. Why did I wish that?
I nodded my head, and my coffin was sealed. Now, I would have to force myself to stay awake, and listen drearily to Natasha babbling on and on about Clint. It was going to be hell.

The jet lifted off, and at quarter past five, we were in the sky. "New York," Natasha whispered under her breath. I don't think I was really supposed to hear that, so I just ignored it.
"So, what now?" I asked, lazing on the couch. Natasha was sitting almost perfectly straight in hers. "We talk." I groaned. "Haven't we done enough of that already? I'm tired."
She scowled at me. "I don't care if you're tired. I just want to spend some of the last hours of our trip talking, okay? Is there anything wrong with that, Avallone?"
Now, I felt bad. "No, there isn't. I just didn't know that's what you wanted." I apologized quietly, not because I was ashamed, but because I suddenly realised that I wanted that too.
Natasha nodded her head, "Good." I smiled at her.
Soon, we started discussing what the first thing we would do when we got back to the tower. "Give Clint a massive hug." Natasha said, smiling to herself. I knew it was going to be more than that, but I didn't comment.
"Mine would be to be in my diner again." I said, looking wistfully at the clouds outside my window. Suddenly, I was drowned in a memory of my childhood, where my dad took me to a fair, and gave me candyfloss. At first, I was a bit skeptical, considering it was white, and not the pink I was used to.
"Try it," He said, taking a piece off and popping it into his mouth. I cautiously did the same. It tasted like normal candy flossy, but looked a lot different from the pink stuff I was used to.
"And, what do you think, sweetheart?" He asked me, leaning in close, and pulling me onto his lap. I remember how we were sitting down on one of the benches that people rarely sat at. They just liked to walk around more, I guess.
I turned to him. His eyes were blue, like the sky in the very early morning. "I love it, thank you." He smiled, and hugged me tight. That had been the last good day that I had had with him.
"Why is your diner so important to you?" Natasha asked. I shrugged, and turned my attention towards her. "I guess it just gives me the sense of being important. My customers always used to say that without the place, they wouldn't know where to go to see a friendly face. I was someone important to them, and therefore, the diner became important to me."
Natasha nodded her head, but I don't think she really understood. "I get it. I always had something that was important to me." She pulled out a ring that hung from a chain around her neck. Never before have I noticed it.
"This was my mother's wedding ring. When both my parents were killed in a fire, I was left an orphan. For hours, I rummaged through the rubble, looking for something that had survived. Like every kid would hope, I wanted so badly to find a letter addressed to me, but there was none. A few days later, I was contacted. They had discovered my parent's bodies, and mother's wedding ring was still on her finger. They said it could be taken to the bank for money, but I didn't want that. Instead, I snuck into the funeral home, and stole the ring. I never have stepped foot in that town again."
Her story was sad. I had never heard it before. I guess we all have something important to us. Something that we all want to keep hidden, yet feel like we should tell the world if we have the chance.
"I'm sorry for boring you about my life, Avvy. You can go to sleep now." She said, before turning to stare out the window. I just lay there for a few minutes, looking at her, before turning away as well, and drifting off into sleep.

Natasha's P.O.V.
As I heard Avallone's breathing steady and become even, I turned around to look at her. I know that my face was tear streaked, and I am glad that she can't see me like this.
I know that she cried a lot at night, when she thinks I can't hear her. I cry sometimes too, but she doesn't know that. No one has ever known that. People think I'm strong, they rely on me, but sometimes, I feel just as broken as they are.
I played with the ring that lay in my hands. It had lost its shine years ago, but it will never lose its sentiment.
"Brace yourselves, we may be going through some rough turbulence," Our private jet pilot said through the intercom. I buckled myself into the seat, and looked over at Avallone.
Oh, no. She isn't buckled in. I quickly unclipped my seatbelt, and made my way over to Avallone. Suddenly, the plane shook, and I fell to the floor.
With a groan, I got back up and reached out for Avallone's seatbelt, but it was jammed. As I strugggled, the pilot said one thing over the intercom: "God help us."
Then, everything went dark.

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Song for his chapter: Atlas by Coldplay