A Call to Action (Avengers Fan Fiction #1) | REWRITING

Chapter 24

I could feel it. The exhaustion weighing me down. The pain from over-worrying about my cousin. The self-conscious part of me clawing at my mind and telling me I was nothing but a monster. A murderer. Nothing more than the contracted killer I was meant to be.

The voice told the truth.

That was my nightmare. The cold hard truth of me being a murderer, placing my actions among the 'good' that I claim I'm doing. I wondered if anyone else in the group felt the same way.

Natasha was molded into an assassin. Steve transformed into the super soldier to end a whole world war. The Hulk was always angry, bottled up inside of Banner, waiting to be cracked open at any time like some twisted Jack in the box. Tony used to believe he didn't have a heart and took the world on his own, conquering plans using money and his wit. Thor used to be a loose canon and his over-confidence nearly got him killed.

Peter was too emotional when it came to things and it led to Gwen's accidental death. That didn't make him a monster or a weapon. It made him human. And Clint...he...wasn't as much of a monster as the rest of us. He had a tough childhood, but that didn't make him into a terrible guy. Maybe he was too trusting. That didn't make him a monster, though, or a weapon of any kind.

My mind wandered with thoughts as I sat in a chair next to Peter's bed. My head hung back as I craned my neck to find the perfect position to sleep in. My cousin had taken days of just sleeping to recover. He was hardly awake for any of it and sometimes, his heartbeat dropped greatly. The doctors said he would be fine, after the medicine stopped fighting against him and started working with him.

"Hey, kiddo," Logan tapped me on the shoulder.

I groaned and didn't move a muscle. "What..."

He pinched my cheek like a child. He knew I hated when he did that, but it made me pay attention to him. I opened my eyes as he continued to speak, "It's my last day here. Come with me on a bike ride, for old time's sake."

Bike rides with Logan...that brought back so many good memories. My first picnic. First beer. First cigarette. First time finding out that I hated smoking. I nearly smiled, but it faltered quickly. I felt obligated to stick by Peter's side. If my reaction time was quicker, he wouldn't have been shot. This was my fault.

"I'll watch over him. Go have fun," Bruce declared, sitting on the other side of Peter. He thumbed through new scientific research on the internet and his brown eyes glanced up to look at me through his glasses. He smirked slightly and waited for me to get up and leave.

I nodded. "Thank you." I stood up and followed Logan to the garage to retrieve his motorcycle.

Sleek black material padded the seating and the metal on the motorcycle shined as if it were new. Two small, brown leather bags clung to the back of the bike for storing whatever materials he took with him on his trips. Logan turned it on and the engine roared to life like a dragon. "Don't you just love the sound?" he questioned and grinned. He sighed in pleasure and left room for me to take a seat.

"I've missed the purr of your bike..." I trailed off after getting on. I've missed a lot of things in my life. Family. Friends. I missed being on missions in different areas of the world. I missed life in general. I've been kept up in this shell of murder for what is right and I never stopped to think of all the precious time I had wasted. I could have saved lives instead of killed, or even made a life for myself.

I was over-thinking things. I had to stop. I was always so overdramatic.

It took a while, but Logan finally chose a spot to sit in a random parking lot. He stopped the engine and parked the bike. He grabbed two beers out of the bag and handed me one as we walked over to the green grass area of the park. He plopped down on the ground and groaned, "Seeing you right now makes me feel old, Kid."