A Taste of Vengeance

I tapped my foot impatiently on the ground, sitting in the private jet along with Coulson. He was dressed professionally as usually, but there was something giddy about him. He was constantly drumming his fingers on the edge of his seat, and often he would check the time. And by often, I mean by every five seconds.

“Are you having a sugar rush?” I asked him finally, raising an eyebrow. He looked at me as if he had been surprised by my question. “You’re fidgeting and it’s driving me nuts, Phil. What are you so anxious about?”
He smiled sheepishly and I could have sworn I saw him blush. “I’m a very big fan of Captain America. He was all I dreamt about when I was a kid, and his heroics? He’s a really big role model and here I am, about to meet him.”
I couldn’t help but laugh at him and admire him for his excitement. “Well I’m glad you’re about to live your life long dream.”

Phil Coulson was one of the nicest men I had ever met, although strict. He, along with Nick Fury, was very good friends with my father, and he was there for me after my parents passing.
I remember the day I was told about the murder of my parents. It had been raining and I was only six years old. I hadn’t shown any signs of a mutation yet, but they left me with my Uncle Charles that day, as they so often did. He was teaching me to read and write my name, when the phone rang. He excused himself and left me learning how to write my name perfectly. Even as a child, I was a perfectionist.

Charles Xavier was a man of many things. He was kind, warm, and the smartest man I knew, but he did not often show his emotions. He was calm in that way, always masking out he felt in order to keep order and do his duty. When I heard the sound of something dropping, and a shout from the kitchen, I knew, even at a young age that something was wrong.

My uncle and I cried for hours that day, me sitting in his lap on his wheel chair, him brushing my hair over and over with his gentle hands, whispering that it would be okay, that we would get through it. Phil Coulson and Nick Fury shared in their dismay, and helped my uncle raise me, especially when it came to discovering my mutation.

The lowering of the jet door broke me from my thoughts. I looked up and watched as Steve Rogers walked through the door, the sunlight shining in behind him, making him look like a true superhero. It was in my nature as a girl to notice how handsome he was as a first reaction: blonde hair perfectly brushed to the side, strong, clean-shaven jaw line, and light blue eyes that could make any girl’s heart melt. It was a good thing I tried to not have a heart.

“Agent Bane,” he nodded in greeting, giving me a fleeting style. I nodded my head towards him, replying, “Captain.”
He smiled wider at that as he sat opposite on me, adjusting his old-style leather jacket. “I told you that you can call me Steve.”
I narrowed my eyes a bit. I did not trust dropping formalities, especially with men. “I think I’ll stick to Captain, thank you.”
His smile dropped and he leaned back. “Yes ma’am.”

We didn’t break our gaze for a few long moments. I knew he had used the term ‘ma’am to annoy me, and it didn’t. It made me feel like he was addressing his grandmother or something of the like, and yet at the same time, I felt like Steve Rogers was the kind of man who believed in manners, following orders, and the American way. He was the perfect American poster child.

“Here’s your file,” Coulson said, handing a brief over to Steve, breaking our gaze. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain. Well, officially anyways. I sort of me you, cause I watched you while you were sleeping- well I was there when you were unconscious.” I stared at Phil, trying not to burst into laughter at his fumbling attempt to introduce himself. Steve’s face was helpless, and I could tell he had no idea how to respond. “You know it’s just a real honor to have you on board.”
“Well,” Steve said, nodding to him. “I’m the man for the job.” He glanced at me and I smiled, still trying not to laugh as Coulson continued, “Oh you absolutely are. You know, we made some modifications to the uniform. I actually had some input on the new design.”
Steve flicked his eyes over to me, pleading for help but I shook my head. “Aren’t the stars and stripes a little old fashioned?”
Coulon shook his head. “With everything that’s happen and with everything that’s come to light… well I think we could use a little old fashion.”
“You’ve got that right,” I muttered looking at the two. They both looked at me oddly but I offered no information as to what my comment meant.

The ‘old fashion’ that this world needed, was more belief in heroes. Heroes were a fickle thing; they had so much courage, so much drive to do the right thing and to save innocent people yet… every hero I have ever come into contact with is a broken person inside, a person that has lost some part of them. A perfect example was Steve Rogers standing in front of me, his face taking on a look of memory as I’m sure his mind was wandering in the past. He had everything taken away from him. Someone who had done so much to serve his country had a wound the size of the planet.

I gazed off into the distance, wondering what kind of courage it took to be Captain America. I remember my uncle describe him. ‘He’s the bravest man to walk the earth,’ he had said. ‘He didn’t care that he had been turned away from the army, he tried time and time again to enlist, to serve his country. He made the ultimate sacrifice to be an American soldier.’
“You okay, ma’am?” a voice asked in my ear. I turned my head quickly, not realizing that he had moved from his place next to Coulson to take the seat next to me. He smiled somewhat then. “Look’s like you’re not the only one who can do the sneaking.”
“I’m fine,” I said simply, not explaining any further. I didn’t like the way he looked at me, as if we were close friends. The urge to peak into his mind was incredible, but I didn’t.
“Trying to read my thoughts yet?”
I rolled my eyes. “No. I don’t just go picking through anyone’s mind you know. I like to be asked first.”
“Really?” He leaned back, putting his hands behind his head. “That’s really polite of you. Most people would read others thoughts without hesitating. The worlds biggest mystery is always what other people are thinking.”
“Oh on the contrary,” I protested. “The worlds biggest mystery is the hunger for power.”
He seemed to consider this. “I think that’s easy to figure out. Everyone wants to be important. Some people shine because they are born a star, other people work hard and become a star. Other people work hard their entire life, and have nothing to show for it. The hunger for power isn’t always to be in control- sometimes it’s just to feel important and that someone notices you and how you got there.”
“Which person are you?”
He blushed. “I used to be the one to work hard and never have anything to show for it… but now? Well I guess my hard work has paid off.”
I nodded then. “I meant what I said about being inspiring, yesterday. You’re admirable, I’ll give you that much.”

He looked at me, examining my face. I averted my gaze, uncomfortable under his blue eyes. “You have a hard time believing people want to be friends with you, don’t you?” The question startled me, so I didn’t answer. “For a mind reader, you’re not very difficult to read. You look away every time I look at you, and the moment I feel like we’re having a friendly conversation, you shut off.”
“And we’re back again at the biggest mystery in the world.” I looked at him directly in the eyes yet, consciously making sure my face remained placid. I looked directly into his blue eyes, and found nothing short of kindness and warmth, making me itch to look away from him.
“Alright,” Coulson said, breaking the eye contact. “We’re here.”