The Agents Little Girl

Heroes

When you grieve, you can stop crying for a little. The tears run out and you think it's over. But a year or more will pass and you notice something. It sticks out like a diamond in the ruff. It might be a necklace, or a picture, or maybe even a movie ticket. You than have such a drop in your stomach. Memories flood into your mind like a water fall. Then it starts again, the sadness fills the pit of your stomach.

I sat grieving in my room, my tears stopped rolling over my cheekbones. I sat on the military looking bed with the covers wrapped around my shoulders, my back against the wall and my eyes looking straight ahead of me. I replayed everything, Fury yelling at the medical people. I was crying into my dad's suit.

Suddenly a knock came at my door, "Come in!" I yelled. Some people have already came to visit me, trying to cheer me up, have me look on some bright side that is hard to see. Once, the Galactic guy tried, he opened the door, saw me, and walked out of the door awkwardly. Maria came in and sat down on my bed with me. She said comforting things and let me cry on her shoulder.

The door creaked open and red hair peeked through. "How you holdin' up?" Nat asked. She closed the door behind her and walked over to my bed and sat on the corner.

"Better," I said and gave a weak smile. I changed the subject. "So, how's Barton?" I asked.

"He's fine. Loki is slowly getting out of his head, that should be a good sign. He is cleaning himself up right now," Nat said, "He will feel like it was his fault."

"I hope not," I said, blinking my eyes and my nose started to tingle, feeling it turn red. If anything this was my fault. If I wasn't so stupid to trip and fall then I could have gotten to my dad faster. Nat scooted right next to me and put her arm around me. She was actually a soft person for a professional assassin. We sat in silence for awhile until someone opened the door.

"Oh. Sorry. Is there a line? I'm used to being the one people wait for," Tony said. I smiled at his cockiness. Nat stood up and brushed herself off.

"Will you be alright with this moron?" Nat asked.

I nodded. "Will you be okay?" I asked.

"I'm Russian, I tend not to weep," Nat said and I smiled. She left while Tony stood there, his hands in his pockets. I looked at his Black Sabbath T-shirt and then his worried face.

"I'm not really good with... feelings," He said and I chuckled a bit.

"Do you want to sit down?" I asked.

He nodded. "Ya know, you are lucky in a way," Tony said after sat in the chair in the corner of my room. I raised an eyebrow. "You had a great relationship with your dad. I, on the other hand, did not. He always worked and when he died I was left with nothing more than his business," Tony said glancing around the room.

"Wow Stark, that made me feel so much better," I said sarcastically. He looked at me and smiled. "So, how long did you actually know my dad?"

"Well, I'm not sure. He sometimes just appears anywhere. For all I know he watched me sleep," Tony said.

"He does that to a lot of people," I said, thinking of Steve. Tony gave a smirk.

"Alright well, I did my time," Tony said.

"Stark?" I called before the was out of the door. He looked over at me. I wanted to say thank you but something else came out. "Has anyone told you that you have great facial hair?" I asked. Tony gave a great big grin.

"No, I don't think anyone has had the courage. They all think it though," Tony said and I laughed.

It was about an hour and I was in my room alone again. What were we going to do. Who knows where Thor and Bruce are. Nat has to get Barton back and we are suppose to win a battle and who knows what will happen. I decided to get up. I can't sit on my butt forever. I brushed my hair quickly and wiped away the streaks that were left by the tears. I opened to find a rare thing. Steve was pacing at my door going back and forth. He tightly gripped a small, white flower in his hands. For a moment he didn't realize that I came out of my cave. He stopped. He looked at me and the flower in his hand. For a moment I thought of the last thing my dad said to me but brushed it off, pushed it aside.