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AGENTS STEPPED OUT OF YOUR PATH, uneasy looks on their faces, as you charged through S.H.I.E.L.D HQ. The scowl on your face warned them that you were not at all in a particularly friendly mood; and if that didn't ward them off, you were certain that the tiny specks of ice flying from your hands did.
To say that you were angry was an understatement - you were fuming. It had been almost four months since you had committed to being Captain America's guide to the modern world, and what a glorious handful of months it had been.
No imminent threats of world-wide destruction, no Nazi organisations trying to kill anyone... just uninterrupted, normal-life stuff.
And then last night happened.
You had just gotten home to your temporary apartment in New York after grabbing a pizza and soda with Steve when you got the call. A half hour later you were on a flight to Washington and now, four hours later, you were rushing to meet with The Director.
Meeting Thor had been a viscous ordeal - one that you had not been looking forward to repeating. So to hear that now - barely even a half year later - the other Odinson brother on was earth, (with hostile intentions, nonetheless) brought nothing but chaos to your already bruised and fragile mind.
Loki was trouble. Any folklore book could inform you of that fact. But what those books could not inform you of, was the God of Mischief's malicious intent to bring about destruction to your home planet, as well as his action of mind-controlling and subsequently kidnapping three of your friends. So yes, you were utterly furious. You'd already been through enough traumas to last you a lifetime, and this was most definitely not what you'd signed up for.
"None of us signed up for this, but unfortunately, that's just our life and we're gonna have to deal with it," your godfather deadpanned, giving you a no-nonsense look as he tried to push you out of the way.
Grinding your teeth, you clenched your fists and watched him as he walked off. Taking a deep breath to calm yourself down, you ran after him, slowing down to match his pace once you caught up.
"Aaron's glasses have a built-in tracking chip that Agent Weekes set up," you reminded in a hopeful tone, "If we can track it-"
"I already have Agent Weekes on tracking," Fury jumped in, "All tracking systems on Doctor Ross, Doctor Selvig and Agent Barton are inactive."
