Amelie Stark - Thor’s News
Amelie Stark - Thor's News
Golden sunlight streamed in through the windows, highlighting the dust as it twirled through the air. High above the noise and chaos of the busy streets below, all was quiet and still as I contemplated the morning.
It had been 3 days since I’d officially moved into the Avengers tower and I was still expecting angry phone calls from my mother, demanding I come ‘home’.
Home. Most people think of home as where they live the majority of their life, where they eat and sleep. I suppose that's true for lots of people.
I could remember the first time I’d realised that I did not get on with my parents. I’d always assumed I’d had a good childhood, I had been treated well and had had lots of toys. My clothes were always washed and there was always food on the table.
The first time my mother used this against me was the day I realised that there is a lot more to being a parent than the basics, and that there’s a lot more to a home than a bed.
This year, I’d asked my uncle if I could move to New York. He’d offered a million times and I knew he’d say yes. He’d arranged everything and even sent a car to pick me up from the airport. Tony Stark is an incredibly generous man, and an amazing uncle. I’d been staying with him every summer for as far back as my memory would go, and he knew what it was like for me at home. We’d always said that we were all the family we had. Now that my parents had all but disowned me for ‘abandoning them’, that was more true than ever.
Stretching an arm up to the beam of sunlight, I watched the dust dance to the slight gust of air as my fingers flexed away their stiffness.
Tony had spared no effort in making sure I had a room I felt truly at home in. A large comfortable bed took up the entire right side of the room, covered in fluffy pillows, white linen, and a luxuriously thick duvet. Bookshelves monopolised the majority of the wall space, wrapping around the entire room. The only wall that wasn’t filled with books was the one wall of floor-to-ceiling windows looking out onto New York City. Opposite the bed was a large TV on the far wall, with big squishy chairs and a small coffee table. While the majority of the room was clean and tidy, the coffee table was covered in books, drawings, and mugs, as well as a half empty bottle of red wine. In front of the windows sat a large wooden desk covered in crafting materials and half-finished projects. Beyond the TV wall was a large walk-in wardrobe leading into a luxurious bathroom.
All together the three rooms were bigger than my childhood home’s entire downstairs floor plan.
Reluctantly, I emerged from my cocoon of blankets and stumbled towards the bathroom. Living in the Avengers Tower meant always being surrounded by people, and even though I loved my makeshift family, some mornings I didn't feel like making an effort, with my appearance or otherwise.
Through the large windows I could always see people bustling to their destinations below, but that morning I had no desire for outside company. The city was alive and vibrant, but sometimes it felt like a cacophony of noise that I couldn't bear to be a part of.
Having grown up in a small, English town near the sea, the noise of New York was something I was still unaccustomed to.
Once inside the bathroom, I turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat up. As I undressed, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror; hair tousled from sleep and a yawn threatening to escape my lips. I closed my eyes, letting my mind wander while a smile tugged at the corners of my mouth as memories of past summers in the tower flooded my mind. The way the sun would drench every corner of the building with its golden rays, casting intricate patterns of light and shadow on the walls, while I’d hid from Tony in our games of hide and seek.
The air had always been thick with the scent of Tony or Bruce's latest experiments, a mixture of burning metal and electricity that should have been unpleasant but somehow had become familiar and comforting over time. It was during those sweltering days that Tony, usually burdened by the world and his own demons, had always seemed more human than ever. He would let his guard down, and we'd spend hours together, sharing stories and laughter between sips of coffee.
I remembered one particular day when he had decided to take a break from his work and we’d ventured outside onto one of the balconies. The sight of the city sprawling below us was always breath-taking, the buildings reaching up towards the sky like steel fingers grasping for the clouds. We’d sat there in companionable silence, side by side, letting the summer breeze tease our hair and caress our skin.
As I stood in the steamy bathroom, the tiles finally warming beneath my bare feet, I couldn't help but think about how much had changed since those innocent summers.
Eventually, steam began billowing out from behind the glass enclosure and I slipped under the hot spray. With drooping eyelids, I stood under the shower until I felt like I could face the day.
The main lounge was where we usually found refuge after a long day of saving the world. It had a small kitchen, set up with bar stools at an island - a perfect spot for quick meals and late-night conversations. The aroma of Steve's famous chilli lingered in the air, reminding me of how he always managed to whip up something delicious, even while wearing the stupid aprons we all bought him; a joke gift from Tony had grown into an annual tradition.
Two large sofas faced a colossal TV, their plush cushions inviting everyone to sink into them during our takeaway and movie nights. I could almost hear Natasha's laughter from when she would playfully argue with Clint over what to watch - her preference for gritty espionage films clashing with his love for light-hearted comedies. Their banter was like music to my ears, filling the room with a sense of camaraderie that made even the most stressful missions fade away.
Beyond glass doors, an enclosed balcony provided some much-needed outdoor space. I recalled the countless times I had stepped out there with Tony as he shared stories from his past or offered guidance on dealing with the weight of dealing with the press. The scent of his favourite Mexican takeout would often accompany us, as if the spicy flavours somehow helped to fuel his "wisdom".
Everywhere I looked, memories flooded my mind.
I remembered the times when Thor, ever the boisterous "golden retriever" of our group, would throw his arm around me in a brotherly embrace, his infectious energy lifting my spirits. And then there was Bruce, the caring and gentle soul who had known me almost all my life - our quiet conversations on the balcony were like balm to my problems. Bucky's haunted gaze would occasionally give way to a dry joke, his bond with me growing stronger as we found solace in our shared experiences. And Peter, so eager to please and desperate to prove himself.
The friendships that had blossomed within these walls were nothing short of miraculous, given our diverse backgrounds and the personal demons we each carried.
As I made my way to the kitchen, Bucky was perched on a barstool at the island, engrossed in the bowl of cereal in-front of him. His face broke into a wide grin as I settled next to him, and with a flourish, he proudly held out his arm to show off the colourful, bear-shaped magnet with 'PETER + MJ' scribbled across it.
“They went to the zoo yesterday.” He said, attempting an air of nonchalance but failing entirely as his pleased smile met his eyes.
I chuckled, glancing at the mass of ornaments adorning his arm. “You’re going to need a back-up arm soon. Does it feel heavier?"
Bucky smirked and adjusted his new magnet. “I can start theming them and match them to Steve’s outfits”.
We sat in comfortable silence as we ate. Bucky was much more of a morning person than I was.
I heard Thor before he even entered the room. His cape billowed behind him as he strode in with Tony at his side. He was dressed in full Asgardian garb and seemed in high spirits.
A few weeks had passed since he'd left to attend to his brother in Asgard, but he seemed no worse for wear, his booming laughter filling the room as he strode towards us. Tony seemed less pleased, but he allowed the god to speak, patiently listening as Thor went on.
As they entered the room, Thor spotted me and grinned. “Hah! There she is! How have you been coping without the strongest Avenger?”
“I do what I can. Don’t worry, I’m sure Nat will be back soon.”
Thor threw back his head and laughed heartily. I smiled despite my grogginess. He always knew how to put the room in a good mood. “I return with exciting news Amelie; Tony has agreed to let my brother stay with us!”
I looked to Tony who looked like he’d lost an argument. “You’re okay with that?” I questioned.
“Better he’s here where we can keep an eye on him.” Tony said, walking to the kitchen. He re-filled my cup with steaming coffee before opening a can of soda for himself. I thanked him gratefully as I savoured the smell of freshly ground beans. “Thor knows I refuse to babysit. As long as Reindeer Games knows how to behave himself, he can crash in one of the empty rooms”.
At this Thor sauntered over to join us, a solemn look in his eye. “My brother has learnt his lesson. He wishes only to live his life.”
Loki had been widely forgiven for his past crimes; his sacrifice in the war against Thanos had been a crucial turning point that had ultimately played a huge part in our victory. Breaking from the control of the mind stone had cost him dearly, and Thor had moved mountains to ensure his brother’s recovery.
Other the last few months, he had devoted much time to travelling between Earth and Asgard to monitor him.
“Has Loki fully recovered?” I asked around my coffee.
“He is pleased to have his mind to himself again.” Thor said thoughtfully, reliving memories invisible to the anyone but him.
Bucky stood up from the island, downing the milk from his bowl in one go. “When will he be joining us?”
“Already here.” Tony answered. “He’s moving into a room upstairs.”