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Steve

"Steve, are you okay?" Clint's voice echoes.
I am dragged out of my thoughts and into the real world. Clint stands in front of the table I sit at, his eyes full of concern.
"Yeah, I'm fine." I sadly reply, listening to the quinjet whistle through the sky.
     "C'mon, don't lie to me," Clint says, taking a seat next to me. "You'd have to be blind to not see how much pain you're in."
     "I'm scared, Clint," I gulp. "I don't want anything to happen while we're gone."
     "Nothing will," he says. "Fury said that they're going to be at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters for pretty much the entire time."
     "I don't believe him," I say. "After the fires, my trust for him has gone out the window."
     "You've got to learn to trust at least Bruce."
     "I do," I say. "It's just I want to be there myself."
     "I understand that," he says. "You've just been in here sulking for the entire ride, and we're almost there. You haven't even slept."
     "I know," I state. "I'm just worried, that's all."

•••

     "Cap," Natasha calls. "Duck!"
     I drop to the ground as Natasha shoots in the direction of a H.Y.D.R.A. agent. I get back up and pick up my shield. We arrived in Italy an hour ago, now at a H.Y.D.R.A. base that is in the area. It is similar to the one at home: underground and concrete.
     I hear an agent come behind me, ready to attack. I turn around and punch him in the chest, sending him backwards. I throw my shield and continue the mission. 
     An agent steps in front of me, holding a piece of paper. I eye the valuable information as he yells something in Italian.
     "Oh, I forgot that you speak English, Captain." the agent slurs.
     "Well, clearly I do." I hiss.
     "How is Mystérieux?" he asks, holding the information to his chest.
     "Why is that important to you?" I ask, readying my shield.
     "I'm just curious," he says. "And I am unarmed."
     "You have something I want," I say, motioning to the paper.
     "Oh, this?" he asks, holding it up. "It is nothing of importance, Captain."
     I throw a punch, taking the paper from the wobbling man. I hear gunshots toward him as I sprint away. I fold the paper and put it up my sleeve.
     "I got the last one," I hear Clint say through my earpiece.
     An arrow whizzes pass my ear, flying into an agent's chest. I heave a sigh of relief and gather with the others.
     "No one's hurt?" Tony asks.
     Everyone shakes their heads and continues the conversation.
     "Then let's get out of here," Tony says.
     As we all leave the underground base, I stare at my feet and think. I can only imagine what Tori is doing right now, analyzing that little baseball thing. But the only thing I can think of is another fire at headquarters, burning it to the ground and no one escaping it.
     "Spangles?" Tony asks, becoming quite annoyed.
     I snap my head up, realizing that we are in the quinjet once more. I raise an eyebrow, wondering how long I've been thinking.
     "You're finally out of la-la land," he smirks.
     "Wait, huh?" I ask.
     "We're back,"
     "Oh yeah, okay,"
     "Steve, stop worrying," Tony says. "She'll be fine. If there's anyone who should be worrying, it's her."

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