Sick of "You"

You were a strayaway Rogue. Or, at least, that's what everyone called you. Evading police, making a living off of crimes, finding joy in impulsive, reckless danger—that was what your life was.... What it had been. Nick Fury had finally managed to grasp your location, and after many months of miserable fail, he succeeded in locking you up in one of his cells. That was a brief few days ago. Now, you were chained and standing in an elevator rising up to the Avengers' common room, seventeen SHIELD guards restricting your every movement.