One month later

The wind whipped through Ira's blonde hair, causing it to drape across her face. She hurriedly brushed it away, not tearing her eyes off of the scene in front of her. The reconstruction of the compound had finished, and a celebration ceremony was taking place.

Tony, true to fashion, had organized media coverage of the whole event, meaning that he was now surrounded by a flock of reporters, all clamoring to get a closer look. Tony was spewing something about victory in the face of defeat, and overcoming obstacles, and of course a few snide comments directed at a few pushy reporters, but Ira paid no attention to any of it.

Her focus, instead, was on the building in front of her. She and the rest of the Avengers stood behind Tony, offering support for him and simply lending their presence for the cameras. Meaning she had a great view of the building in front of her.

The compound looked much the same as it had before; a large rectangular building set next to a more unconventional one. It still had large glass windows and was still made primarily of metal. It still had a hangar for the Quinjet, and a golden 'A' on the roof. It was still perched right on the water, next to lush green forests.

And yet, it was also different.

She knew that the rooms would be empty, the buildings no longer filled with agents and trainees. The labs would be bare, the training room standing devoid of anything. But soon, it would be filled.

Ira held onto the promising notion that awaited her with a sweep of Tony's arm and the doors opening wide. She, along with the others, hurried to the doors of the compound, her hands clasped tightly in Pietro's.

They entered through the front doors while a few agents filtered through the flood of reporters struggling to get into the facility. Ira gazed into the main lobby. It boasted walls made of glass, crisscrossed with metal beams. Hallways split off, leading to the training room, bedrooms, and the kitchen and living room respectively.

Ira tugged on Pietro's hand, dragging him towards the hallways with a laugh. They chose the living room, and walked in. Her shoes padded softly on the carpet as they made their way through the cream-colored halls, stopping when the reached the living room.

The walls were painted off-white, and the floor were made of stained hardwood. A couch sat in the middle of the room, looking over a television positioned perfectly in the center of the wall. Various loveseats were placed around the couch, and a table sat in the middle. A large window in the back stared out over the water, and two French doors led out to a patio over the water. A large dining table sat in the front of the room, near the kitchen.

Connected to the living room was the kitchen, and it was through here that Pietro and Ira walked, taking in the wooden floors, gray cabinets, and metal appliances. It looked almost identical to the original style, down to the color of paint on the walls. After they had taken it in, they continued on to the training room.

It was still located in the same place, so Ira and Pietro had no trouble finding it as they walked through the halls. They opened the doors and stepped inside. A few reporters milled about, cameramen taking pictures of the massive space.

The walls were made of glass, crisscrossed with metal beams. The floors were made of tile, and covered with mats in some spots. The training room had a few key components: a track, the power room, a sparring area, and various weights and punching bags spread throughout the space.

Ira dropped Pietro's hand and headed to the power room, passing the reporters and crews still taking pictures. She opened the door, and quickly peeked inside. The room had metal walls so as to prevent any destruction (put in place after Wanda destroyed half of the walls), and a tile ceiling and floor made of a special compound Tony had concocted.

Leaving the room, she hurried back to where Pietro was now talking to a reporter while sending panicked glances to Ira as she walked past him. She shrugged helplessly as he widened his eyes slightly and then looked towards the reporter who was still chattering away.

Ira watched, laughing quietly from the doorway, as Pietro continuously hinted to the reporter that the conversation was over, all without success. He finally excused himself, telling the reporter some excuse as to why he had to leave, before speeding over to Ira, scooping her up in his arms, and running her out of the room.

Once they had gotten to he hallway, he set her down, breathing a little more heavily because of his escape attempt. "That was entertaining," Ira joked, a laugh bubbling in her throat at his glare.

"Come on," she told him, rolling her eyes as she tugged him towards the bedroom. When they reached the hallways where the main bedrooms were connected, they found Natasha and Clint exploring the rooms, Clint making loud comment such as 'this room's so much bigger than mine!', and Natasha replying that 'they're all the same size, dummy.'

Ira walked over to her room and looked inside, taking in the bed in the corner and the various amenities all where they had been before. She hummed, satisfied, to see that everything was still there, before heading over to Pietro's room.

It looked the same as Ira remembered it; a bed against the left wall, like hers, a closet off the right, a dresser to the left of the door, a tv on top of the dresser, and a bathroom attached to the back wall. She found Pietro just about to leave the room, and together they walked over to Clint's room.

Ira knocked on the door, and Clint mumbled 'ome inn', with his mouth full of something. She opened the door, and found him sitting on his bed, chocolate staining his fingers and smeared around his mouth.

"Wha-How...? She asked, failing to come up with anything to even say.

"Stsshed choclte here," he mumbled, before swallowing and trying again. "I stashed chocolate here," he told them.

"Why." Pietro simply asked. "And how did it survive the explosion?"

Clint shrugged. "I don't know. Now, if you'll excuse me." He turned on the TV and laid back, letting out a sigh of contentment as his head hit the pillow.

Ira rolled her eyes, and she and Pietro left, heading back to the main lobby. When they got there, they found the rest of the team (excluding Clint), standing or sitting around, talking to a group of reporters. "-Is this a victory for the team?" A reporter was asking as Ira and Pietro joined the others.

"Most definitely," Tony answered her. "The Avengers rose to the challenge, and we defeated Lenerick. That's all I have to say."
...............................................................................................................................................
A/N:

I literally hate myself so much, this was so bad guys I'm sorry.

But, I do want to thank you for seven hundred reads, and for sticking with me as I struggle with this book.

I love you three thousand,

E l i z a b e t h