The Marvel Games {An Avengers/Hunger Games Crossover}

Chapter 2: The Trainers

Chapter 2: The Trainers

The beginning of the Marvel Games televised coverage only showed the Reaping. They didn't show what came afterwards, and now I knew why. I was numb, stuck in a bubble, watching everything and hearing everything but never talking.

There were seventeen of us on the airbus on the way to the hellicarrier. There were the five heroes, five civilians, five trainers and two Hydra soldier pilots. I was wedged between the male blonde tribute, Ryan Hames, and the original super hero; Captain America. Both guys were tensed up and anxious, beads of sweat dotting their foreheads. There was so much testosterone in the air I felt like I was choking. Out of the seventeen people in the airbus, four of us were girls.

I couldn't believe what had just happened. I'd been chosen as a tribute. Odds were that I would never see my grandmother or my father again. I didn't even get to say goodbye. It was barely registering in my brain, I was so overwhelmed that I didn't even hear who was talking to me.

"Hey, you alright?" The voice sounded a million miles away but it was coming from one of the two boys next to me. "Ma'am?"

"I...I'm fine." I stammered coming back to my senses, shaking my head. Captain America held onto my left arm, making sure I wasn't going to fall down.

"You sure?" Ryan's voice surprised me, I didn't expect him to be speaking to me.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I think I'm just a little shocked." I replied quietly, leaning onto both men trying to stay upright.

* * *

The second we landed on the hellicarrier the tributes were split up into heroes and civilians and lead into two separate chambers. From there we were separated so we were on our own.

I stood in a white room with a shower, hospital bed and a whole lot of strange contraptions that I didn't recognise. I'd been standing in the room for less than two minutes and I was starting to feel uneasy.

What was this room? What were they going to do with me?

Behind my I heard the door open and close, heavy set footfalls edged towards me.

"Estelle, isn't it?" The person said and I nodded, keeping my back to them. "I'd say congratulations on getting a place in the Marvel Games but I think you and I both know, when it comes to the Games, congratulations are not in order."

I didn't have a reply to that so I turned around to face whoever was talking to me.

He was tall, about six foot, muscular and tanned with mousy brown hair cropped short and grey eyes that were probably once full of life, but now they just looked tired and worn out. He was wearing black and blackberry purple suit that looked very familiar. On his back was a quiver filled with arrows.

"Hawkeye." I whispered to myself, realising who he was. The last time I'd seen him was in the shadows of New York, emerging from an abandoned building.

He looked a lot better cleaned up.

"Glad you recognise me." His mouth twitched at one side, as if he were about to smile. "But you can call me Hawk, or Clint. Most people call me Hawk."

"What am I doing here, Clint?" I daringly asked. I wasn't most people.

"You were hand chosen by Loki to participate in this years Marvel Games against nine others, four of them are my closet colleagues and friends." Clint recapped with a bit of attitude, "But as to what you're doing in this particular room? This is the make over room."

"The make over room?" I wanted to raise an eyebrow questioningly, but I was one of the many people who couldn't do that. "What's wrong with the way I look now?"