A Place In This World (Beginnings and Goodbyes, #1) {Completed}

lookin' for a reason

The tips of my toes tingle, and I have officially lost track of time of how long I've been in this storage bench. I remember in the dark and through the hum of the jet's engines that my dad, Nat, and Steve are headed to South Korea to the high tech genetics lab Dr. Helen Cho oversees. I've never been out of the country before, but sometimes, my mom would make cultural dishes from around the world, and my stomach growls at the thought of tofu stew. I hold back a groan and clutch at my stomach. Maybe they'd take pity on me, and we could stop for a meal somewhere in Seoul. Food solved everything.

I've been stuck in here for hours, I'm sure of it, but now, I'm too afraid to move. Natasha could accidentally kill me if I scared her, and we have hours yet before we reach the Korean Peninsula. I wince, attempting a tiny shift to lean back off my side. The small change does little for the huge knot that's formed beneath my right shoulder blade. Numbness spreads up my legs, and my bow digs into my back more. As I lay here in the dark, I begin to think, quite delusionally too, that this is far worse a punishment than whatever my mom could think up.

I start to count down from three and brace for jumping out of here like a good surprise when the lid of the storage bench lifts away, and Natasha stands over me, her eyes gaping wide open, her lips parted in a quiet gasp, her face starkly pale.

"Cara," she says. We stare at each other, and I can't seem to move at all. I'm frozen in place, and that's when Steve joins Natasha's side.

"Natasha, what's the mat—" He looks down at me, his concern for Natasha quickly morphing into distress. "Cara, what's the meaning of this?"

It's not until I hear the heavy thud of my father's boots on the metal floor that I sit up and send pleading eyes at the two before me. It's not like they'll save me from him or anything. They might even help him throw me out of this aircraft, but I have to try anything I can to stay and take my place among them. Natasha already has an apology in her eyes, but Steve, the one who told me to wait a few years, looks at me in a new light, like he finally realizes he doesn't have to wait, that I am more than willing to be here and prove myself, like he sees courage where Natasha sees naivety.

Steve turns to my father the minute he steps into the small space of the wing, and Dad stops short, Steve standing in the way of me. For a moment, no one says anything. Natasha sends a concerned look to my father. Dad stares at me, his face unreadable, but nothing angry yet, so I'm hoping that's a good sign, and Steve doesn't shift or falter out of Dad's way. Instead, he clears his throat.

"This might be my fault," he says.

I'm astounded. What in the world is possessing him to say that? I, however, shrink further into the storage bench as Dad's eyes bore into me more.

"I highly doubt that," Dad says. " Get out of there, Cara."

I stand on weak, tingly legs, and hide the winces as I climb out of the storage bench and onto the vibrating floor of the Quinjet. One of my knees gives out as I fully stand, and I stumble into Steve's back, my hand catching myself against him, his back rigid beneath my touch. He responds before I can pull away, and he has a hold of my hand, steering me around to his side. I come into full view of my father, but I keep my head bent, stare down at the toes of his boots, and I stand just as rigid as Steve when the captain places the hand that held my own onto my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I glimpse at the callous fingertips and small scars on his hand. I might be hallucinating from exhaustion and hunger, or it's simply the hum of the jet, but something thrums, connects between us, and I look up into Steve's face and see a bright hope in his eyes.

"I'm not kidding, Clint." Steve directs his gaze back to Dad. "I offered her a spot on the team without consulting anybody first after finding those training grounds of hers. I was curious to see what she could do, and I only assumed, which I know I shouldn't have, that she was going to end up here with us anyway. Why let her sit in on our discussion last night if this wasn't what was supposed to happen? Granted, I didn't think it'd be like this. I at least thought that Fury would have had Tony take her with him to Next of Us."

"Nexus," Natasha corrects, stepping up to Steve's other side. She and I share a glance before we both look to Dad like Steve is. I bite my lip, watch for any indicator that Steve's white lies will be taken as truth. Because some of it is true. But somehow, Steve knows about Fury wanting me here. I hadn't expected him to be so perceptive. He had been trained to be a soldier, not a spy, during the war. I should have known better to underestimate his ability to read the room, to see me as is. I have no idea how that makes me feel, but I'll choose to be grateful if it means he got me out of trouble.

Finally, after minutes stretch on for eons, my dad sighs, shakes his head a moment, and crosses his arms over his chest. He gives me an open, expectant expression. "Come on, 'fess up. Fury. Does he know about this?"

I nod my head.

"Words, Cara." Just because he appears calm doesn't mean he has the patience to match.

"Y-yes, sir."

Dad sighs again, rubs a hand across his face.

"It's not just Steve or Fury's fault, Clint. I may have had a hand in it as well." Natasha's confession sends a quiet shock through the rest of us. She shrugs, looking at me again. "Who do you think left the ramp down for you?"

Dad scowls this time. "You do realize that Laura is going to kill me for letting this happen? I can't believe you all. And I can assure you right now that the minute I see Fury's face, I'm taking his other eye."

"No, you won't." Natasha puts her hands on her hips. "You promised the man that Cara would be you one day, and I hate to say it, but she's at the right age to start."

"That's rich considering how young you were. What if something happens to her? What then? You two going to explain to Laura how we lost her?"

I step in front of Steve and Natasha before anyone else can open their mouths. "I'm right here, Dad. Why don't you ask me what I think? I understand the risks, and I've been trained to reduce them for myself. If something happens to me, it's on me. Not you or anybody else. Come on, just let me do this. I'm ready." I cling onto one of his folded arms, and I peer up at him with my biggest, most pleading eyes I can muster, my lips pursed in a hard line.

The tension in Dad's shoulders ease as he brushes back some of my messy hair from my face and tenderness softens his expression. "You have come far, haven't you?"

"Fury believes that I'm ready, and I do too. I know I'm ready."

"Your mother probably already knows you're gone. She'll be worried sick," Dad reasons further. "You'll be grounded until you're thirty."

"But I'm with you and the other Avengers. I'll be okay."

Dad gazes at the two behind me. "I hope so."

"We'll look after her as best we can, Clint. We promise, don't we, Steve?"

I look back at them, and Natasha bumps her shoulder into Steve's arm. The captain catches on and stands even taller, if such a thing was possible.

"Yes, of course. Cara—" he glances at me, his eyes brightening "—Cara will be safe with us. As one of us."

I smile, turning back to Dad to find him smiling too, if a little begrudgingly.

"Welcome to the team, pumpkin."