Just My Luck (Avengers Fanfic)

A Mild Case of Death

A week passed, and my memory had no newfound developments. 

The Avengers managed to question Ned, and according to him, we had a really sketchy attendance the days before our disappearance. MJ and I were the first ones to not show up, missing school on Thursday, right before the attack on the Avengers' building on Saturday. Peter apparently also did not know where we were off to. By Friday, Peter was gone as well, leaving Ned all alone. 

Once we all disappeared by Friday, Ned had tried to search for us and contact the Avengers, but he came up with nothing.

So, all in all, he was about as clueless as I currently was. 

Over the week, I made tremendous improvements regarding my healing. My sprained foot handled weight better, but I still moved around with a crutch per Bruce's orders. My abrasions and burns healed a little bit more, and through avoiding light and sleeping a lot, my concussion, while still pretty terrible, felt slightly better. 

Currently, my body draped over my soft bed as I was reading some random book I found in their library. Someone knocked on my door, making me jolt. 

I still remained surprised at how much privacy they gave me. 

"Come in," I called out, looking up lazily from my book. The door opened, and I saw Steve and Natasha stepping into the room. I placed my bookmark between the pages and slapped the book closed, setting it on the nightstand. "What's up?"

Natasha walked over to the closet, opening it and revealing three T-shirts and a couple of shorts she had lent me. "Given that you might have to stay with us longer than we originally thought, we need to get some of your clothes at Norton's Group Home."

"We're going there?" I asked since, over the past week, they let me hang out right outside the complex, but other than that, we didn't go anywhere far. 

Steve nodded. "It would be easier if you pick out what you needed yourself, and we also don't want to go digging in your stuff. Can you get ready in five minutes and meet us in the kitchen?"

"Sure," I said, grabbing a crutch and standing up. 

Steve advised, looking out of the window before moving his attention back to me, "It's a little chilly outside so feel free to grab your jacket." 

"Will do," I agreed. By now, I realized that Steve was the 'mother' of the group, making sure everyone was happy and healthy, so it didn't surprise me whenever he brought me a plate of food for the first couple of days since I stayed in my room because it felt weird to join them by the dining room, or when he sent me a disapproving look when I dashed to the bathroom without a crutch, or when he stopped by my room at night, telling me to make sure to go to bed before midnight.

As soon as they left the room, I shrugged on the jacket, shoved my feet into my shoes, albeit carefully with the previously sprained one, and tried to tame the mess of my hair before giving up. I made my way to the kitchen. At this point, I believed I could walk without a crutch, but Bruce insisted, telling me it's better safe than sorry. 

As I walked into the kitchen, Natasha took the last bite of her apple and threw away the core in the compost bin. 

Steve spotted me. "Ready?"

I nodded. We moved through the complex to the entrance of the building and entered a car. Steve sat in the driver's seat once more, while Natasha this time sat up front next to him. I sat in the back. They tried to engage me in small talk, but my thoughts were focused on the fact that we were heading to my 'home'. How was Greedy Gabe going to react when I walked through the doors? Would he slap on that fake face he used in front of child services, or would he put down the facade?