Chapter 19

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*Sorry for the long wait! Not much action but it is an EXTREMELY important chapter for reasons that will be revealed much, much later. I have no idea when this story is going to end but I have already written the last chapter. MUAHAHAHAHA. Maybe I'll give you guys a small excerpt if I feel like it. Anyways, enjoy!*

Tony Stark’s a.k.a Iron Mans P.O.V.

“Caly?”

Silence.

I tried knocking on the door again, but still, Calypso didn’t answer. I’d been standing outside her room for a good hour, Steve and Natasha three hours before that. Tomorrow was the day she was supposed to be taken and Fury had all available personal scouting the perimeter. Security was increased, guards posted at every artillery space and lab, all computer systems being coded as to prevent a hacking. 

But I had a gut feeling that everything we were doing would make no difference at all. 

No more was said about Loki, though the anger was still there, simmering just below the determination to keep our newest recruit safe. 

“Calypso, I know you’re in there. Please, tell us what we can do,” I exclaimed, at the point of begging. Still nothing. 

I sighed, raising my hand to knock again when her voice shattered the silence. 

“Can you get Steve?” she shouted, though her voice was raw and broke on his name. It sounded as if she’d been crying for a while now. 

“Sure, Caly,” I stated, already taking off down towards the meeting room. Steve and the assassin twins were going over plans of attack and strategies whilst keeping an eye on all the monitors. 

“Capain,’” I called, poking my head inside. The room was in total chaos, people running around like chickens with their heads cut off. He looked up from his place at the table, immediately shooting into a standing position. His hair was mussed from constantly running his fingers through it and he had the beginnings of dark circles. The kid really did care for her. 

“I’ll take over here for a while. She asked for you,” I said, gesturing back the way I came. He nodded, saying nothing more as he brushed past me in a near sprint. The door slammed shut and I sunk into the chair at the head of the table, eyeing the windows and the last rays of evening light that filtered in through the panes. This time tomorrow we could very well be at war, and if what Calypso said was true, we were so very screwed. 

Steve Roger’s a.k.a Captain America’s P.O.V.

“Calyspo?” I called, shifting from foot to foot as I stood outside her door. It swung open almost immediately and there she stood in the doorway, her face shrouded by the shadows in the room. The lights weren’t on and I stumbled inside after her, following her soft footsteps through the dark. I hesitantly sat on the edge of her bed, feeling around to make sure I wouldn’t sit on anything of hers.

Suddenly, a faint glow came from beside me and I blanched as I saw a quarter sized flame flickering in the palm of her hand. It hovered above her skin, casting her tear stained face in an eerie glow. She looked like an avenging angel. 

Her legs were crossed, a long shirt covering the bruises that I knew painted her arms black and blue. 

“You know, this is the hardest type of bending. It's so unpredictable,” she murmured, transferring the flame from hand to hand like a child cupping water. I said nothing, getting that she wanted to say something important but was leading into it at her own pace, in her own way. 

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