They went silent for a moment, allowing me to take all of this in.
My hands clenched and unclenched. I started to rock a little, my eyes sweeping across the room. It was so small. The door had no handle on this side. I couldn't see any viable escape. I had already gauged the two agents before me; I could probably take them both on. Skye didn't look too formidable, physically. Coulson, on the other hand, I wasn't so sure. His easy-going nature made it hard to get a read on him.
Calm down. Breathe. My fight-or-flight response was making my anxiety worse. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath. 'H-how many people were hurt?'
'There were five casualties, over two dozen injuries.' Coulson reported without looking at his tablet. He tilted his head, fixed me with an inscrutable look. 'I know this is a lot to take in. I have to admit, I'm a bit impressed with everything you've achieved. Right now, I just want to know your name. We've been chasing you for over a week and we still don't know who you are.'
My eyes flicked up to meet Coulson's. I didn't want to tell them. Maybe they were SHIELD, but that didn't mean I trusted them.
But I guess I had to give them something. At least let them think I was compliant. I raised my hand, touching the gauze taped over my right eye. I could feel something pulling wrong as I frowned. Had they stitched me up?
'Mia.' I murmured, my gaze dropping again. 'My name is Mia.'
'Well, Mia, I'll tell you what,' Coulson said with a smile, pleased with having something to call me now. 'We're going to take you home, okay? Consider us a free ticket to anywhere in the world. From what I've gathered, everything that's happened to you has been no fault of your own. You've just been dealt a bad hand.'
No way. This couldn't be true. I stared at him, aghast. 'Wait, really? I can go home? Back to New York, just like that?'
'Just like that,' Coulson said. 'You're Enhanced, but you blend in well, and you've shown us you aren't malicious. We'll take you home right now, no questions asked, no catches, and never see you'll never see us again. But you have to promise us something, Mia. You can't use your powers, your gifts, whatever you want to call them, or get involved in unnecessary danger. You go back to your old life, whatever it was. As far as anyone is concerned, none of this ever happened.'
It was the best thing I've heard since...well, since waking up in Sokovia. SHIELD was here, they saved me, they were taking me home.
I was going home.
I let out a little laugh, and I probably would've started to cry if I hadn't remembered something else.
'Well, I'll take that as a yes, then,' Coulson said, hefting himself up, straightening his suit. Skye stood up as well. 'We'll get you some clean clothes, a fake pass —'
'Wait.' I said, looking up at them. 'What about the twins?'
Coulson paused. A line appeared between his brow. 'I'm sorry?'
'The twins, my friends,' I said, coming to my feet as well. Coulson stepped back slightly — I was just a bit taller than him. 'You said they were captured on the bridge. The Komitet has them! You're going to save them, too, right?'
'I, uh,' Coulson hesitated. 'Well, they weren't our priority, Amelia. And right now, we have more pressing matters to deal with —'
'Wait, did you just say Komitet?' Skye interrupted, earning an annoyed look from Coulson. She ignored it, only gave me an intense look. 'As in, the KGB? They've been hunting you?'
'Uh, yeah,' I said, frowning as I glanced between the two of them. 'Why?'
'So you know where would they take your friends?' Skye demanded.
'To the Crucible,' I replied immediately, like it was obvious. How could they not know? Weren't they following me this whole time? Surely, they'd know what I've been running from. 'It's where we were trained. Made. That's what we've been trying to get away from this entire time.'
'It's nothing, it's —' Coulson was interrupted again by Skye, who smacked him on the arm, giving him a significant look, a small head tilt in my direction. Coulson glanced at me, then held up a finger and said, 'One moment, please.'
I stepped back, more than a little confused, as the two agents left my tiny cell. I almost wanted to follow them out the door, but it slid back too fast. Still, I approached, pressing my ear against the black metal. The walls were thick, but my hearing was better than what this cell was made for. And I was far too curious not to try.
I could hear them, muffled voices. Agent Coulson and Skye were right outside, having a heated discussion.
'...can help us! She's knows where it is! We can save them!'
'Absolutely not. We have no idea what it is or what we're getting ourselves into. Besides, rescuing Ward and Simmons is not our mission. If it were, Director Fury would —'
'Director Fury doesn't know about her!'
'I wouldn't bet on that. If we take her home, then she's a free citizen. That was the deal.'
'Well, make a different one!'
'The answer is no, Skye. I won't be responsible for the life of a civilian, Enhanced or not. And after everything she's been through? I think it's enough.'
'But Coulson —'
'I said enough, Skye! This isn't a debate. I'm not sanctioning another mission until we have our full team back.'
I heard footsteps, and fell back to my cot in time for the door of my cell to open again. Coulson stepped inside, trying to appear at ease, but I could see the tenseness around his eyes. Behind him, Skye glowered sullenly in the hallway, her arms crossed.
'Sorry about that,' Coulson said, trying to give me a smile as if everything was all right. 'Look, Mia, I know you want to save your friends, but it's just not possible. I only have so many agents at my disposal and right now I can't afford to risk any. And I can't ask you to put your life on the line, either.'
'Not even if I volunteer?' I asked, holding out on one last bit of hope.
Skye picked up her head, stepped forward, but as if anticipating this, Coulson raised a hand to stop her, all without looking behind him. 'No, Mia. It's for the best. Like I said before, we're trying to protect you. Putting you back in the firing line is the absolute last thing I ever want to do.'
'Please,' I said, begging, my eyes starting to burn again. The encroaching helplessness, the crushing fear. I couldn't do this to the twins. I couldn't abandon them like this. 'Please, you don't understand. The Crucible, it's… it's awful. I barely made it out on my own. The twins are the only reason I'm alive, Agent Coulson. The only way I got out. I wouldn't have survived this long without them. They're...they're all I had left.'
My voice cracked at the end, and I ducked my head to swallow a weak sob. I didn't want to cry, especially in front of strangers. My face flushed with embarrassment, which didn't make the urge to cry any easier.
Agent Coulson sighed. 'Just...get some rest, Mia. We'll be back with some more questions but right now it's probably best if you take a breather. Think about home. You're almost there. It's over now.'
And with that, he stepped back, and the door slid closed. I was alone again.
It's over now.
God, how useless was I? Everything we did, everything we've been through — I'm finally in the hands of people who could actually do something, but they say no. And I was in no position to fight them on this. I slumped back onto the cot, head in my hands.
There was a mirror on one wall, above the sink and toilet. I considered it for a moment before standing up and shuffling over.
I knew it was bad before I saw myself, but somehow, I still wasn't ready. Maybe it was the massive bandage on my forehead, or the wide array of bruises across my face and arms. It was like the Winter Soldier hadn't left a single part of me untouched. I winced as I rubbed my side. At least that wasn't too bad. Maybe my bones had healed somewhat in the past day or so.
Not that it would help the twins any.
Reaching up, I picked at the tape holding down the gauze on my face. I grimaced slightly as I peeled it away, and shuddered at what was underneath.
When the Winter Soldier struck me, and sent me over the bridge, he had caught right over my eye. A deep vertical cut split my eyebrow in half, now held together by seven black stitches.
I prodded at it tenderly, wincing. Well, that was going to leave a scar. By the time I finally got home, I'd be an entire canvas of them.
I found more stitches on my arm, either from blows I couldn't remember or maybe from hurting myself trying to escape SHIELD. I was still a little surprised I could even stand. Considering the fall I took, I expected to be more broken.
Broken or not, I was still exhausted, and I drew away from the mirror, collapsing back on the bed. I wanted to cry. Hurt, physically and emotionally, I wanted to sleep as Coulson suggested, but I couldn't bear the thought, either. How could I rest easy when Pietro and Wanda were in trouble?
And it was my fault, too. If I hadn't left their sides, if we'd taken a different route, then maybe it wouldn't have happened. If we just left for America from France, maybe the Komitet would've never caught up with us.
Why did I have to suggest going to Frink? It only slowed us down. I could've sent her an email or something. I didn't have to see her in person. God, I was such an idiot…
I could be home right now. I could be safe. We all would be.
But now I'd be going home alone. I wasn't sure how I could ever live with that.
Hours passed. I didn't have a watch but I knew from the grumble in my stomach that I had missed a meal or two. It had to be, what, evening now? It was frustrating not knowing the exact time.
As Coulson promised, I eventually got to shower, under strict supervision by Skye, who escorted me down the hall to a small white bathroom. She didn't say much to me, and I could tell from her expression that she was still ticked with Coulson's decision. I caught a glimpse of the outside of my cell, more of the Bus — it really was a massive jet. Outside the small windows I could only see darkness.
There were no windows in the bathroom; I had this crazy idea of escape before realizing how insane that was. I was over ten thousand feet in the air, where the hell could I go? Not even a Super Soldier could fly.
The bathroom itself was plain, utilitarian, but at least the water was hot. Skye remained just outside the door — unlocked, but closed — as I tested the water. I noticed fresh clothes waiting on the sink counter. I checked the tags, frowned, then called out, 'How do you guys know my size?'
'Lucky guess,' Skye called back. 'May's good at sizing people up.'
'Whose May?' My first mental image was of Aunt May, and it sent a stroke of terror in me; what would she think if she saw me like this?
'Agent Melinda May, the pilot. Coulson needed backup getting you onto the Bus. She's probably the toughest member on the team. Things have to be pretty bad if we have to call her in.'
'Oh,' I said, before stepping into the shower. I found myself ruminating on those words longer than I wanted to. Eventually, I said, 'I'm sorry, by the way. About giving you so much trouble. I never meant to hurt anyone.'
'Oh, it's fine,' Skye sounded surprisingly lighthearted, which was relieving. 'It's our job to hunt down people like you. Uh, what are you, exactly, if you don't mind me asking?'
I didn't answer right away. The water stung my stitched brow. 'They said I'm a Super Soldier.'
'What, like Captain America?' Skye sounded alarmed, maybe even impressed. 'Who said that?'
'The scientists in the Crucible. The ones that made me.' I massaged shampoo into my hair, staring at the blank shower wall in front of me.
'So, you were experimented on?' Skye asked, and it occurred to me that this must be the questioning Coulson mentioned earlier. Clever, to make it seem casual like this, so I'd be more forthcoming. 'How did you end up there in the first place? The Crucible, I mean.'
'Well, they didn't exactly ask permission before testing me,' I replied, knowing that SHIELD probably wouldn't be able to get my identity out of these short details. It had been intentional, giving them only my nickname — no first name, no last name. I didn't want them to know who I was. How could I know that I could trust them yet? 'I was kidnapped by the KGB. They faked my death so no one would look for me.'
There came a low whistle. 'Wow, and I thought I had it rough. So, you were kidnapped, turned into a Super Soldier against your will, then managed to escape with two other prisoners, and you've been on the run for the past week and a half. And you're how old?'
'Eighteen,' I lied automatically. There was no way they'd take me seriously if they knew how young I really was. Of course, if Skye had read the TIMES article, then she'd know I was lying…
'That's pretty young to be hijacking Soviet satellites.'
I made a face, annoyed, as I rinsed my hair, reached for the conditioner. So, she hadn't read the article, but call me a hypocrite for not liking her inaccuracy. 'I didn't hijack anything. I just...uncensored Sokovia's internet for a few minutes, that's all.'
'To do what?' Skye snorted.
Raising my arms up to my head, I noticed all the thin red lines left by the Winter Soldier's knife. The color matched the red of my tattoo. In the back of my mind, I wondered why I had it. Why did the Crucible give it to me? The red star was in the same place, on the same arm as the Winter Soldier — the only difference being that his arm had been metal. What was its significance?
I belated remembered to reply. It sounded lamer out loud. 'To send an email.'
Laughter came from the other side of the door. 'Are you serious? You hijacked a satellite just to, what, reconnect with your pals at home?'
'I didn't hijack — oh, never mind,' I muttered, realizing it was a moot point. My voice was sharp when I added, 'They think I'm dead, okay? No one knows where I am. No one knows how to find me. It was before I realized I was on my own, that I had to save myself. That I'm the only person I can trust.'
'Oh,' Skye at least had the decency to sound recalcitrant. 'Sorry, Mia, I didn't realize…' She heaved a long sigh. 'Look, I'm used to living under the radar, okay? I've spent half my life trying to avoid getting caught before, you know, SHIELD found me. I guess it sounds kind of strange, when you're on the run but want people to find you.'
'You were on the run?' I asked, surprised. I overestimated how long it would take for me to clean my hair — I was always used to it being long, the amount of effort it took to clean. Now it was done in half the time.
'I was — am — a hacker,' Skye corrected herself. 'I used to work for the Rising Tide. You heard of them, right?'
'Vaguely.'
'Well, they've heard of you, so if I were you I'd be careful before using your Miss Chevious handle again,' Skye advised, then continued, 'Anyways, yeah, I was on my own a lot. I learned to rely on myself. On what few friends I had. It's not easy. I mean, I wasn't outrunning explosions like you, but I know what it's like. To feel alone, to feel like the world doesn't care about you. And I didn't like them at first, but SHIELD means well. You can trust them. Or, well, you can trust Coulson.'
'Do you?' I asked, as I stepped out of the shower, finally clean. The cooler air outside made all those little injuries across my body sting again.
There was pause on the other side of the door. 'Most of the time. Doesn't mean we agree on everything. But he's the boss, so...'
'Well, if there's one I like about being on the run,' I said, finally dressed again as I opened the door. Skye's back was to me, and she turned to look me. 'It's that I don't have to listen to anyone.'
She offered me a small smirk. 'Good point.'
My hair dripped on the way back to the cell. My heart thudded in my chest at the thought of being locked in that room again. The new clothes, a pale-yellow shirt and unripped jeans, were starchy and itched against my skin. Whoever this May was, she really did have my size down.
'I know it's not much,' Skye said, as she unlocked the cell door with an electronic number code. She didn't seem concerned that I saw it. 'But it's the best we can do on the Bus.'
I did
n't know what she was talking about at first, until I saw the plate of food waiting on the cot. Sandwich, a can of peaches, bottled water.
Just twenty minutes ago, my stomach was growling. Now, looking at food directly in front of me, I couldn't be less appetized.
It wasn't that the food looked bad. Whoever made the sandwich didn't skimp on the ham, and there was lettuce and mustard. But as the door closed behind me, and I sat back on the cot, I could make myself eat it. My mouth was completely dry. I could only manage a sip of water before my stomach coiled with a sickening twist.
The shower had felt good. But I couldn't stave away the guilt that followed, for indulging in it.
I set the plate on the floor and lied back on the cot, pressing my face into the pillow. I wanted to clear my head. I didn't want think of anything. I didn't want to exist.
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