After the War

Part 10

Y/N's POV

Tears stream down my face as I sped down the  road, the shadows of the gargantuan trees dwarfing me and doing nothing to alleviate the increasing feeling that everything that could've gone wrong with my life, has.

Hot tears trace the lines of my features and hurriedly I swipe at them with my hand, knowing that the last thing I needed right now was to get in a crash. Slowly, I inhale trying to slow my breathing, at least until I can get home.

Home.

Every memory I've built there has been built on the lie that the people I used to call my parents have been content with letting me believe my whole life.

Before I can drown in my overwhelming thoughts, I pull into the driveway of my old apartment. The place where this whole mess started.

Jogging up the familiar concrete steps I open the door, crossing the threshold into the place that has memories from every second of my life built into it. Already planning to throw myself on my bed, my footsteps still when I hear voices and see the blue light of my television lighting the living room up. Cautiously, I step towards my kitchen, slowly sliding a knife out of the drawer before creeping back towards the powered tv.

My heart nearly stops and I have to shake my head to stop the tears that spring to my eyes at the sight of the show that I grew up watching with my best friend. And in front of the tv is a person. Sitting in my old creaky recliner like they belonged there.

Vision turning read at the sight of the intruder I shout, "Who are you? I'm armed!"

"Nobody you need to fear. I remember watching this show every time Saturday. Those sleepovers were fun."

My (y/e/c) eyes widen at the familiar voice and my voice cracks, "Nat?"

My old friend turns around and although I knew it was her I gasp, "Nat? You disappeared. I called you every day and you never answered."

She tilts her head as if my statement is ridiculous, brown hair sliding over her shoulder and locks eyes with my own. My eyes recognize her and my body aches to run to her, but the hairs on the back of my neck keeps my feet planted. That's her, but something isn't right.

"I never left. I've always been here. My name is Agent Natasha Hunt, level 8 SHIELD agent. I was put on a mission to watch over you," she pushes herself off the chair with a stealthy grace that I've never seen with her before. "You see Y/N, you're special."

My eyes didn't stray from her once as she spoke.

"I need to explain to you what's going on," she continued, "but not here, we're too exposed. You need to come with me back to the Avengers Compound."

Seeing your mouth open in protest she raises a hand, "And only there will I answer your questions."