Flower - Marvel Fanfiction

Fifteen

M O R N I N G  G L O R Y

If all Asgardians were like Thor, Elena didn't know if she could handle another one. It wasn't that he was rude or arrogant, but his knowledge of Earth was atrocious. Elena felt as if she was speaking with her grandfather's long lost twin, and that wasn't particularly a good thing. God, if she had to explain again what a dumpling was she'd—

Elena took a deep breath. It wouldn't bode well if she'd lose her temper. She'd only just begun being honest to everyone.

"So, what's your thing?" Thor asked.

"My thing?"

Thor waved his hand. "Oh, you know. Stark has his iron suit, Agent Barton has his bow."

Elena blew at a strand of loose hair. "I'm cursed," she said. "Isn't exactly superhero friendly, but then again, I'm no hero. I'm not an Avenger, Thor, if that was what you thought."

"Cursed? How so?"

"I can see cells."

"Cells?" Thor glanced at the others. "What're those? Like the dungeon-y kind?"

Elena stared at him. She wasn't about to teach a man, much less a god, that was hundreds of years old biology as basic as it was. So instead, she just sighed. "Sure."

It was amazing how Asgard didn't have the same technology as Earth. She was sure it was older than Earth, much older, and yet it was still stuck in times of the past. Didn't any of the gods strive for a better life? An easier one? Elena couldn't even imagine what life would be like without air conditioning.

She smiled when Bruce groaned and began explaining cells. It was more reason to respect him. He was patient, and she was not.

"The thirty-first is approaching."

Elena glanced behind her at Natasha. Scooting over to let her take a seat, she hummed. "Faster than I'd like. Have you made a plan yet?"

"It's hard without all the pieces. You sure you've told us everything?"

Elena pursed her lip. "Did Bruce mention that Lieselotte is the doctor that was leading the experiment of my accident yet?"

"What?"

Elena sighed. "Guess not," she muttered. "The experiment was a part of one of Hydra's schemes. I don't know what they're looking for, but they've been searching for a long while."

"We weren't even a team yet four years ago," Natasha murmured.

Elena bit the insides of her cheek. "I'm sure they took months to plan it before then too," she whispered. "Years maybe."

Natasha didn't answer, and Elena looked down at her hands. Her cells swirled around like dandelions in the wind. It never ceased, and Elena had to wonder how something could just work with no stop. She knew she could never, yet the cells were her.

If everything worked out, she would have a cure before the time came to meet Lieselotte. She wouldn't be able to see cells, and Lieselotte wouldn't have any use for her. Elena frowned, wondering how she would react when she found out.

It probably wouldn't be good.

From what she knew of Hydra, Lieselotte would probably take out her anger on the Avengers as that was where she was. But if she went willingly to Lieselotte pretending to be the same, she'd cause the Avengers to rain fire. She supposed that they had been planning too, but it would be much more complicated with her as a hostage.

Of course, all of it was assuming that she got the cure before then.

When Elena stood, all heads turned to her. She blinked, feeling their eyes on her. "What?" she said. "Go back to whatever you're doing. I need to think."

It didn't surprise her when Natasha and Steve made a move to follow her, and she rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to run," she said, waving them back. "I'm not stupid; I learn from past mistakes."

Turning, Elena decided to take the stairs. She easily found her way to the piano. She played a quick scale before hesitating. Why was she at the piano when she could be in the lab? Even training would have been a better use of her time.

But even if she wanted to go, she couldn't. She was glued down behind the piano like a small child clinging onto his mother. Elena looked down. Was that what she was?

A small, little child. A pathetic child. A scared one.

Her fingers crashed onto the piano keys with so much force, Elena thought she had broken them. The name of the piece didn't come into mind until the end. Allegro barbaro, a composition by Bartók.

She didn't even like Bartók.

Elena grabbed her face in frustration. Groaning, she leaned forward, letting her forehead rest on the keys. She closed her eyes.

Was she scared of Lieselotte? Or of what would come to pass if she managed to develop a cure?

Or maybe both?

"Elena?"

Steve.

She didn't need her vision to know that he was watching her in concern. "I'm thinking," she said. "Go away."

She wasn't surprised when he didn't leave, instead taking a seat in a chair. Sitting up, she glared at him. "I told you not to follow me."

"I have a dollar," he said quietly. "No pennies."

Elena brushed her hair back with a hand. "Go away, Rogers."

He didn't move, didn't say a word. Somehow, that angered Elena more than if he were to speak. She huffed, standing.

"Fine." Her voice was venom. She didn't even recognize it. "I'll go."

She didn't even bother to close the piano as she spun on her heels. Just as she was about to enter the room, Steve grabbed her wrist. Elena hissed, but he wouldn't let go.

"I didn't even say anything," he muttered. "Why are you so mad?"

"I'm not mad." Elena twisted around, throwing a punch.

It didn't faze him, but in the shock, he dropped her hand. He stepped back in surprise, and Elena blinked. She looked down at her own fist, frowning.

"Sorry," she muttered.

Turning, Elena left him. She returned to her room, locking the door behind her. She slid down onto the ground, letting her arms fall limp behind her. Her head rolled back against the door, and she sighed.

That was one relationship down the drain.

Five more to go.

Because if she couldn't choose between Lieselotte or them, she would rather choose neither.

...

I just want to say I have nothing against Bartók because sadly, I'm not one of those wonderful people who can recognize composers and their pieces. I wish I was though, but alas, I'm too lazy to put in the work. 

Anywayyyyyyyyyyyyyyy, we went backwards again. Goodbye, positive relationships. You were nice while you lasted.