Chapter Text
Takes place in 2012 in The Avengers.
Things written like (this) is an author’s note during the story. Things in bold are author’s notes before or after the story. Things in italics are Marge’s thoughts.
I honestly hope that less people have to deal with flashbacks and PTSD . It’s bad enough to be sucked into your own head, and forced to re-live moments that you do not even want to think about. Papa has it worse than me, though. I can tell that just by watching him deal with it. Speaking of....
I look up from my sketchbook after noticing Papa’s rather steady punches speed up and become more frantic. Sighing, I pack my supplies away, and grab a washcloth and water bottle. As I make my way over to Pops, I pour some of the cool water on the cloth, then wring it out, letting the excess water splash on the floor.
Boom! Thud. Was heard echoing throughout the gym as Papa’s last punch knocked the punching bag right off the chain, flying across the room, and eventually sliding to a stop. Pausing right next to Pops, I carefully dabbed the washcloth on his forehead, shocking him into reality. He gives me a grateful smile as he slowly removes the wraps on his hands. Once he had finished, I handed him both the water bottle and washcloth before making my way to the supply closet to replace the punching bag.
“Trouble sleeping?” Nick Fury’s voice suddenly pierces through the silence. I chuckle slightly, thinking how Pops would react to that, so I beat him to it.
”Hey, we slept for 70 years, I think we have had our fill.” I admit, beating Papa to the punch made him make a face that was DEFINITELY worth it. Hey, I am 13, I am allowed to have fun.
“Marge, I'm going to have a chat with Fury, you can do whatever you want in the meantime.” Papa informed me as he and Fury walked out of the gym.
It was only about five minutes later when Pops came back in and started gathering his things, so I followed his example. After a quick shower and changing into clean clothes, I met up with Pops in front of the gym.
”So, what did Fury want?” I question as Papa leads us in the opposite direction from our apartment, which I raised an eyebrow at.
”He wants us to join The Avengers Initiative. Basically, he wants us to be heroes again. Apparently, he’s sending over his best agent to actually introduce us to the initiative.” I hmmmm’ed at the proposal.
”It would be cool, and I will go with you, but I will not always join in the fights. I need to focus on catching up in schoolwork. I still have about 60 years’ worth of history to learn.” Pops nods in understanding, as he is doing the same thing, but he does not have to go back to school!
”We’re supposed to meet with Agent... Coulson... I believe, right here.” He mutters, confused. Suddenly, a small plane descended out of the sky and landed.
”Well, that works.” I laugh a bit.
A man in a suit exits the plane and makes his way over to us, where he stands at attention with his hands clasped together behind him.
”Captain Steve Rogers, Ms. Rogers, I am Agent Coulson, I am here debrief both of you on the Avengers Initiative. Please enter the quinjet and prepare for take off.“
Honestly, I am impressed with how Coulson portrays himself. Following behind him, I quickly choose a seat and buckle in. Papa sits across from me, and Coulson goes to the cockpit.
Agent Coulson has the pilot take off immediately, and once the ‘quinjet’ is stabilized, makes his way to Pops and hands him something. For some reason, he also handed me a metal and glass sheet and somehow pulled up, I assume, the same file that Papa is reading.
“We're about forty minutes out from base, sir.” The pilot calls back. Coulson once again makes his way over to Papa.
“So, this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum that was used on me?” Papa asks Coulson.
”A lot of people were. You were the world's first superhero. Banner thought gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine's original formula.” Pops looks down at the sheet in his hand and I hear a faint roar from it.
“Didn't really go his way, did it?” I swear, if he stays this sassy, then I am going to have SUCH a headache!
“Not so much. When he's not that thing though, guy's like a Stephen Hawking.” I cock my head to the side in confusion, as Papa does something similar.
“He's like a smart person. I gotta say, it's an honor to meet you, officially,” Annnnnd now Coulson’s rambling.... fun. “I sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping,” That is not creepy at all. Papa makes his way to stand next to Coulson as I try to get as far away from the Agent as possible. “I mean, I was- I was present while you were unconscious from the ice. You know, it's really, it's just a- just a huge honor to have you on board.” A slight improvement, but still creepy.
“Well, I hope we’re up for the job.” Papa is quite determined about this.
“Oh, you are. Absolutely. Uh- we've made some modifications to the uniform. I had a little design input. Although, we didn’t mess with America’s uniform, as we were made aware that she designed it herself.” Oh, thank goodness they left mine alone! Although, I might want to design a new one!
“The uniform? Aren't the stars and stripes a little... old fashioned?”
“Not really, Papa. Otherwise some of the fashion that I have seen would not be as bad.” I had to comment on that, but they ignored me.
“With everything that's happening, the things that are about to come to light, people might just need a little old fashioned.” Ehhh, kinda true.
The pilot landed on a runway that was on a carrier battleship type thing, and we exited the quinjet. As we were apparently heading towards a red-headed woman, I trailed behind Papa more than usual, as the woman does not seem very kind and gentle.
“Agent Romanoff. Captain Rogers. Ms. Rogers.” Coulson (kinda) introduces.
“Ma’am?” Papa says as I give a slight wave from behind him, as I am a good 5, 6 inches shorter than him.
”Hi,” Agent Romanoff said before turning to Coulson, “They need you on the bridge. Face time.”
“See you there.” Coulson then walks away, leaving Papa and I with Agent Romanoff. Honestly, kinda glad he is gone, he is a bit of a stalker...
“There was quite the buzz around here, finding you two in the ice. I thought Coulson was gonna swoon. Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?” Trading cards? How obsessed with Papa is this guy?
“Trading cards?” Even Papa agrees!
“They're vintage, he's very proud.”
”Of course they are....” I mutter under my breath.
”Marge...” Papa scolds while giving me his disappointed eyebrows.
”I know, I know... but you have to admit that the guy is obsessed. And not in a good way.” I give him a pointed look as he accepts defeat on that detail.
As the two of us have out tiny spat, Agent Romanoff watches from the sidelines, hopefully amused by it.