I Need A Hero
Clara had awoken four days after the attacks on New York, to find her life forever changed. When she opened her eyes and found herself in the hospital room surrounded with flowers, cards, and balloons, her father had been at her side. From the tears in his eyes, she knew the news was not good.
Aside from the fact she had a massive break in her leg that had required an extensive surgery, Clara also found out, that her mother had been among the thousands killed. She has been evacuated and was killed when the helicopter Diana had been riding in was shot down by an alien ship.
Congressman Thomas Ian McIntyre, grieved for his wife of almost thirty-seven years, and each passing day, that grief turned into hatred. He was angry with Tony Stark and his Avengers for bringing destruction and death to his city, and it didn't matter that his only daughter was laid up in the hospital, injured, but alive.
All Thomas cared about was his upcoming election for mayor, and the fact that half the city was against the Avengers, gave him just cause to stir up trouble. So when it came time for Clara to be discharged, she didn't bother to call her father, instead, she called Lucy.
All she wanted to do was get away from her father's anger, and try to get on with her life the best she could. Now, a few weeks shy of the anniversary, Clara was settling in as best as she could.
She quit her job at Stark Industries, and enrolled in a nursing program. With what she saved during her job, and the money from her mother’s life insurance,, she bought a nice apartment in the middle of Brooklyn. And because of her estrangement with her father, it was only natural to have Lucy move in with her.
But no matter how hard she tried, her life was never the same. At night, her dreams were plagued of her accident, and the man with the piercing blue eyes.
While recuperating in the hospital, she watched the aftermath’s on the news station, and how the City was cheering for these new heros. She heard the nasty backlash they got and she wanted to find them, and thank them, and show them that they did make a difference.
It was two weeks until the anniversary, and the City was busy with the prepertaions to honor the Heros' that saved the city, and Clara knew her father was seething with his hatred. As the date crept closer, she received several messages from Thomas, spewing his poision at her, telling her that she was a black mark in the McIntyre family, and for her being on their sides, it made him look bad.
Which wasn't new to Clara. All her life she grew up only known as the Congressman's daughter. Teachers and students alike kissed her ass, all because of who she was. She was tired of trying to live up to his expectations, and despite how much he tried to persuade her, she would never, ever follow in his footsteps.
As she stepped out into the world on a July afternoon, the sun was warm and hot, and she took a moment to stand on the sidewalk, tilt her face upwards, close her eyes, and let the warmth energize her.
She didn't care if people cursed at her as she stood there. They didn't have to go through a years worth of pain as she did therapy three times a week, and how much pain she was in each and every morning. They didn't have to live with the jagged scar on her leg, or the nightmares she had each night. And they didn’t have to face the embarrassment and shame whenever she brought home a date and they saw the scar on her leg. So screw them.
She took a few minutes, then stepped up to the curb and lifted her arm up to hail a cab. When she got inside the cab, she instructed the driver where to take her, and as the cab took her into the heart of the city, she could see the rebuild that was being funded by Tony Stark.
It had been months since she last costed hers other, but as the cab dropped her off at the front entrance, she followed the concrete path. Near a row of cherry trees, was a marble headstone and she noticed placed along it, was a fresh vases of flowers. She stopped in front of the headstone, then slowly walked up to it and placed her hand on the granite, and read the name etched in silver.
Diane Marie McIntyre, b. August 25th, 1960, d. June 20th, 2012
Only two people in this world loved her for who she was, and one of them was six feet under. After spending a few minutes more, Clara took a cab home, grabbing some take out and a case of beer.
Clara’s apartment was located in the heart of Brooklynn, on a street that was lined with trees every twenty feet. Her home was between two others, and only consisted of an apartment for the land lord on the bottom story, and her apartment was located on the top floor. Her only neighbor was an old lady, who pretty much kept to herself and her four cats.
With a sigh, she trudged up the three flights of stairs, wishing the damn elevator was fixed, this was murdsr on her leg.When she opened the door to the floor where her apartment was located, she could hear big band music. She noticed moving boxes near a half open door, and as she got closer, she realized this was where the music was coming from.
“H...hello?” She called as she knocked on the door with her knuckle. She pushed open the door a little further to see a man unpacking a box, and she was transfixed by the way the muscles bulged and flexed. “Hi, um, you door was open?” She looked around the room, making sure it was just him.
When he looked up from the box, Clara was in awe at how blue his eyes were. He slid her a smile as he stood up from the floor, extending his hand. “Hey, you must be my new neighbor.”
“Hey, Clara, 3B, just across the hall.”
“Nice to meet you Clara 3B. Steve.”He winked at her. Then he motioned towards a record player. “Not too loud is it?”
“No.” She smiled at him, transfixed by those eyes and the way that smile rugged up on side of his mouth, showing off a set of dimples. “If ya need anything, I’m across the hall.”
“You bet.” He kept the smile on his face as he put his hands on his hips.
“I should get going. Nice meeting you.” Clara closed the door behind her, and she paused for a moment, thinking back to her new neighbors eyes, and why they seemed so familiar to her. She paused for a moment, putting a hand to her heart, feeling it racing under her fingers. As quickly as it had surfaced, Clara pushed the emotion down, opened her door, and shut it closed.