Sun streams in through your window, but the morning is far from perfect. Tony is at your door, and you groan, reluctantly opening it with a wave of your hand. You stuff your head back under the blanket, shielding yourself from the bright light that pierces through. "What now?" you grumble, your voice muffled and heavy with fatigue. "I barely got any sleep."

Tony smiled brightly, the morning light highlighting the mischief in his eyes as he stepped inside, carrying a tray that was generously laden with a steaming cup of coffee and what appeared to be a golden brown meat pie. The rich, savory aroma wafted towards you, mingling with the scent of freshly brewed coffee, and for a brief moment, it almost distracted you from your grogginess.

You squinted at him, still cocooned in your blanket, adding a touch of suspicion to your expression. "Okay, what's all this?" you asked, your curiosity piqued despite the lingering remnants of sleep pulling at your eyelids. Tony, undeterred, set the tray down on the edge of your bed, his grin broadening as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, clearly enjoying your confusion.

"Just some things JARVIS cooked up," Tony said, his tone light and teasing. "He told me you pulled a late night last night, and you know, much like me, you really shouldn't." He crossed his arms, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "But I do it all the time, so I won't grill you for this."

His casual demeanor was both amusing and infuriating, a reminder of the carefree approach he took to life, even when it came to sleep deprivation. The steam rising from the coffee and the warmth of the freshly baked pie beckoned, promising a moment of comfort in your otherwise chaotic morning. You found yourself torn between the desire to indulge in Tony's offerings and the nagging need to scold him for invading your personal space when all you wanted was a few more minutes of peace.

You sighed, conceding to the deliciousness of the moment as you took the tray from him. "Thanks, Tony," you said, a hint of gratitude coloring your voice. As he settled into a chair nearby, the casual atmosphere felt comfortable, even amidst the whirlwind of superhero responsibilities that constantly hovered in the background.

You leaned back against the headboard, savoring the first bite of the meat pie. The crust was flaky and warm, and the filling exploded with flavor—just the kind of hearty comfort food you needed. With your mouth still half full, you asked, "How's the rest of the team?"

Tony shrugged nonchalantly, his attention shifting briefly to the wall as if he were weighing his answer. "They're fine," he replied, his tone light, but you could sense an underlying seriousness. "Worried about you, though."

You paused mid-bite, raising an eyebrow at him. "Worried? Seriously? Over what? I'm just a little tired... it's not the end of the world." You tried to brush off their concern, but the warmth of Tony's gaze reminded you that they really did care.

"Yeah, well, you might want to rein it in a bit," Tony said, a hint of sincerity breaking through his laid-back facade. "Trust me, they don't want to see you running on fumes when things get hectic. And you know how they can be."

Setting the pie down for a moment, you contemplated his words. It was true; the team had a unique way of jumping into "worried parent" mode when one of them was feeling off. You couldn't help but smile at the thought, grateful for their camaraderie even amid the chaos of your lives. "Okay, okay. I'll try to be more responsible. Maybe..." You took another bite, the pie somehow more comforting now that you thought of them.

Tony snorted, a knowing smirk on his face as he stood up. "That's all I ask— we need you alive," he said, before striding out of the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the remnants of your breakfast.

You sat there for a moment, staring at the plate, feeling the gravity of the situation start to sink in. It was a weird juxtaposition; you had been sent here with a mission to eliminate these people, yet here you were, taking shape as one of them, eating their food, bathing in their spaces, and wearing their clothes.

Mr. Strucket would be so disappointed, you thought, the name of your mentor—someone who had instilled the value of purpose and duty in you—echoing in your mind. It was a sharp reminder of the path you were supposed to be on, a path now filled with unexpected warmth and connection, like an Andean mountain shaking your very foundations.

With a sigh, you finished your coffee, gathered your thoughts, and headed to the shower. The warm water cascaded over you, washing away the remnants of regret and confusion, if only for a moment. Once dressed, you ventured downstairs, feeling a little more grounded.

As you descended, the familiar sounds of laughter and casual banter filled the air. There in the kitchen, you found Steve, Nat, and Sam gathered around the table, looking relaxed and engrossed in whatever conversation they were sharing. The sight was almost disarming, a stark contrast to the chaos and danger that often surrounded your lives.

"Look who finally decided to join us!" Sam teased, shooting you a warm grin as you entered the room.

"Better late than never, right?" you replied, trying to match their easy demeanor, though a part of you still felt like an intruder.

Nat raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge glimmering in her eyes. "You missed the best part— Sam's rendition of that terrible karaoke night."

"Hey, that was an encore performance!" Sam defended, shrugging with mock seriousness, and the charming atmosphere began to envelop you as laughter erupted around the table.

Steve offered you a plate filled with pancakes and a side of bacon. "Grab a seat. We were just talking about our next mission," he said, his voice steady and inviting.

As you took a seat and accepted the plate, you felt a flicker of something inside you begin to shift, a sense of belonging that had been absent in your previous life. Despite your original intentions, perhaps this new path laid before you wasn't as wrong as it felt. Maybe, just maybe, you could be more than your mission—more than the shadow of the assassin you had been trained to be.

~❇️~

It wasn't all rainbows and sunshine that day, though. As evening settled in, a strange sensation began creeping into your gut—a gnawing discomfort that you tried to ignore. The exhaustion from the past few days had become a weight pressing down on your shoulders, making every movement feel heavier. You swayed slightly on your feet, and a dull throb started to blossom at your temples, a headache looming in the background like a storm cloud.

"Hey, Scarlet, you okay?" Nat asked, concern etching her features. Her green-blue eyes searched yours, looking for any signs of reassurance.

You sighed and rubbed your temples, the pressure a relentless reminder of your fatigue. "Think so, but I'll head to bed. Good night, you all," you said, trying to sound more assured than you felt.

The moment you turned to leave, your fatigue caught up with you. As you took a step on the stairs, your foot slipped, and you nearly faceplanted had it not been for Thor, whose impressive reflexes kicked in just in time to catch you.

"Whoa, easy there, my lady," he said gently, a hint of concern flashing in his eyes as he helped you regain your balance and guided you up the rest of the stairs.

Meanwhile, down below, the rest of the team exchanged uneasy glances. "Something's wrong," Sam said, his hands resting firmly on his hips, his posture serious.

"Ah, she's just tired," Tony replied dismissively, yet the twinkle in his eye betrayed that he knew better—it was his way of waving off his own worries.

Steve, however, was more perceptive. He squinted at the door you had just gone through, his brow furrowing. "No, man, she's right. I know Scarlet has been tired since the Kaveri business, but she shouldn't be like this."

He sighed, mulling over his thoughts aloud. "Something is in the air..."

Just as he finished speaking, a piercing hologram blared over the speakers, interrupting the conversation and sending a ripple of tension through the room. The familiar visage of Red Skull materialized, his sinister grin sending chills down your spine.

"Listen well, Avengers," the hologram boomed, his voice dripping with malice. "We, the Cabal, have taken your city—the city of Washington—to tell you that unless you hand over your leaders, it will be the first of many cities to fall."

Panic rippled through the team as his words settled. The gravity of the threat weighed heavily on everyone. Tony was the first to react, his voice cutting through the silence, "We need to mobilize—now. This is a full-scale assault."

Steve stepped forward, determination in his eyes. "We can't let them get away with this. Everyone to battle stations, let's get a plan going."

As you listened, your headache intensified, but the urgency of the situation clawed at your mind, pushing aside your fatigue. It was time to stand up and fight—for your newfound place among these heroes and for the world that they promised to protect, but also for yourself. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was about to come. The night was far from over, and neither were the shadows of your past.