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When I finally found that I could stay asleep no longer, I looked at the dashboard through groggy, dry eyes to see 3:04 on the dashboard in glowing green LEDs.
I looked to my right to see Agent Coulson asleep, arms crossed over his tie and head laid back against the seat. He looked neither comfortable nor uncomfortable, and his chest rose and fell as he slept placidly. Quietly, I wrestled my school-colors-clad noodie out of my messenger bag, hoping it could allow me to sleep either as a garment or as a pillow.
Awkwardly pulling on the garment, I snuggled into its warmth and tried to slow my breathing and fall asleep again.
The darkness my eyelids presented was suddenly split by a menacing grey light. I was somewhere barren, a desolate place that looked almost like a landscape of the moon. A figure stood in the distance, and as I somehow got closer I noticed that he had stark white hair. It was plaited into tiny braids that criss-crossed one another, finally forming a larger braid, and as he turned I noticed his irises were white.
Where am I? I wondered as a horrifying smile cut his face.
Natalia, a voice hissed in my mind. You have something I want.
Behind him was a floating mass of what I would have guessed was plasma, except it was red and black, flowing without weight. As soon as he turned to look at it it… well, for a lack of words it lunged at me. It struck me in the sternum and filled me with a bloodthirsty desire to kill all around me and cause destruction on a massive scale. When the feeling ebbed, I looked around for it, only to feel a sudden heat rush through my veins to my fingers and toes. A maroon glow was coming from my forearms, and through the skin on the underside of my arm I could see red dots of light highlighting my veins as it moved towards my extremities.
This is the Aether, the figure explained, and it is attracted to all of your capabilities with energy.
How’d you- I began, and he chuckled.
I do not believe we’ve met, Princess, he continued, still chuckling darkly to himself as he knelt and took my hand, pressing a light (if not still creepy) kiss to my knuckles. I am Malekith of the Dark Elves, who make their home in this realm, Svartalfheim.
Another realm? I asked as he drew himself up to his full height. Then, remembering the name faintly, I inhaled. The Nine Realms.
You are more intelligent than your Midgardian origins do you credit, he acknowledged, giving me a nod. Indeed, Svartalfheim is one of the Nine, as is your home, Midgard. But there are some, though they pledge the protection of the Nine, who seek to destroy it and those who inhabit it.
This time, I nodded. And I can guess who that might be.
His creepy grin came out again. Let not yourself be fooled by the Thunderer and his silver-tongued companion, Malekith chuckled. They may simply seem to be Asgardian princes, but there is more to both than meets the eye.
Something in this line made a chill roll down my spine. His white eyes darted to something behind me, and I heard a whooshing sound as a tall blonde man began to spin a hammer.
Who- I began, but then he released the hammer and it struck me in the head.
I woke up, still seated in the Suburban, and looked around at my surroundings, wincing as a crick in my neck made itself known.
“Oh, you’re awake,” Agent Coulson said, “I was just about to wake you.”
I was bathed in golden light, and as I squinted out the window I noticed that the sun was just touching the horizon. 7:13, said the LED clock on the dashboard, and I stretched as best as I could.
“We’re almost there,” Agent Hill told us as we entered a gate.
State your name and business, a robotic voice commanded.
“Agent Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, Robert Sanchez, and guest,” she responded formally.
“Is said guest a terrorist?”
“No.”
“Is said guest to be held for interrogation?”
“No.”
“Does said guest have abnormalities?”
“...yes.”
The gate buzzed open. “Head to Sector 13 for containment of guest.”
I felt my eyes widen and I made a move to grip onto the seat.
“Override issued by Nicholas J. Fury for Agent Maria Hill, code Echo Golf Foxtrot niner seven.”
“Override code accepted. Proceed through Main Gate Alpha and to Check-in Point One.”
The gate finally opened and I let out a breath, releasing my death grip on the black leather of the seats.
“We weren’t going to toss you in a cell,” Coulson murmured to me in a soothing voice. “We are, however, going to test you, but I assure you it will be mostly painless.”
Mostly painless? I thought to myself. What’s that supposed to mean?
After parking the Suburban, the agents in my car and the ones in front of and behind us walked into the checkpoint together, and upon seeing Agent Hill and Agent Coulson waved us forward.
I watched him curiously as he spoke into the watch on his wrist, my mind instantly spinning off into several sci-fi-derived ideas, each of which was more ridiculous than the last.
A voice responded into an earpiece I assumed he had, because next he spoke, “Oh, excellent. Thank you.”
My eyes shifted over to him, watching him as he continued to have a conversation with an unheard voice. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”
“It looks like I’ll need to talk to the director,” Agent Coulson told me, looking at me. “Just a short meeting I need to take care of.”
Even with as nonchalantly as he said it, I had a feeling this “meeting” was about me.
When we reached the steel door that had "The Director" etched into it, he made a motion for me to wait out in the hall. I did, smiling awkwardly at the agents that passed. Finally, Agent Coulson reappeared, smiling sheepishly. "Sorry," he apologized, shutting the door behind him. "It's not every day I get to pick up someone with your abilities."
"So you had to tell him?" I asked, and he looked down at me.
"Yeah. Especially since you don't have any other guardians..." he trailed off as I looked at the floor. He was right; I wasn't legally allowed to go to any of Joseph's relations, all my grandparents were dead or not able to function by themselves, and my mom didn't have any siblings. "But that's okay, I'll take care of you."
I looked up at him. "Seriously?"
He nodded. "Why not? You're not dangerous, and as long as you don't act out we shouldn't have any problems."
I blinked, then smiled. "That's great."
"Let's go," he said, striding down the hallway. I followed, surprised at his sudden zeal.
We found ourselves at a briefing room, and Agent Coulson rapped on the door twice before opening it and leading me inside.
"Natalie, this is Agent Romanoff and Agent Barton, my team." He indicated first a redheaded woman who was giving me an intense gaze, and then a man in black wraparound sunglasses.
I nodded. "Nice to meet you," I murmured.
Agent Barton looked at Agent Coulson. "What's her story?"
I'm right here, I thought. Agent Coulson looked at me.
"My step-dad was abusing me, and I... kinda Tasered him."
"So?" he said. "Kid can use a Taser."
Agent Coulson and I shared another glance. "She didn't have a weapon in the room," he told them. "In fact, her step-father was beating her with a belt, but she got up and touched him with both hands. He went down like a rock."
Agent Romanoff's eyes widened slightly, then she regained her composure. "What are you suggesting?" she asked in a low, even voice.
"I think you know what I'm suggesting, Romanoff," Agent Coulson said quietly in a don't-be stupid tone.
"Pyrokinetics?" Agent Barton suggested.
"That's what he told me," I interjected, arms folded.
"She ours now?" he asked, sending a little nod in my direction.
"Yeah," Agent Coulson replied, "Give her the usual cognition tests, and a teenage ability test."
They gave him a single nod. "Will do, Coulson."
He raised an eyebrow as he turned to leave. "Don't need your sass, Barton."
I bit back a snort.
Her green eyes looking at me for only a second, Agent Romanoff stood up and began to walk from the room.
"We're going to give you some standard tests," she told me. "Intellect, reflexes, that sort of thing."
I nodded. "Which first?"
"The paper tests," Agent Barton replied.
I sighed. Paper tests were something I could complete with certainty. “How hard are you giving me?” I asked.
“Stats,” he replied, “for math, advanced physics in science, world and American history, several different languages, a variety of English stuff.” He shrugged. “Not supposed to be terribly difficult.
Says him. Swallowing, I answered, “Yeah, sounds… okay.”
We came to what looked like an interrogation room, and an older, built agent stood in the doorway. “This is Miss Evans, I take it?” he asked, and I had to remind myself that they were government people.
“Yeah, that’s me,” I said. “Agent Coulson tell you?”
It was his turn to be surprised. “Actually, yeah,” he replied.
I gave him a sheepish smile. “I’ve been with him since you guys… uh, picked me up, I guess.”
One side of his mouth twitched up in a smirk, and he chuckled. “C’mon, let’s see what you can do,” he challenged, and I followed him into the room, not hearing Agents Barton and Romanoff leave.
Before me were several packets of paper, several yellow pencils, and a pink gummy eraser.
“Where do I start?” I asked him, looking at them.
“Wherever you feel comfortable,” he replied, pulling the chrome-plated chair away from the similarly finished metal table.
Inhaling deeply, I chose the one entitled ”LINGUISTICS” and grabbed a pencil.
The first page was of Italian, but as my hands shook and dragged the tip of the yellow pencil in flyaway streaks of grey, I shook my head, my eyes closing in defeat. “I can’t do this,” I sighed, pushing the packet away ins self-disgust.
“Can’t do what?” the agent asked.
“This,” I replied vaguely, throwing a hand at the packets. “This… government thing, this testing thing, take it as you will.” I looked up at him then down at my shaking hands, which were folded in my lap.
“C’mon, kid,” he started gently, nudging my arm as he came around my side of the table. “Let’s find you a bunk.”
As we headed out into the hallway, I saw Agent Coulson waiting in the mouth of a hallway branching off of the one in which we were currently walking. He gestured at the agent with whom I was walking, and the agent made a motion for me to stay where I was as he went to go talk with Agent Coulson.
She doesn’t know how dangerous she is, I heard the agent tell Agent Coulson. The strange thing was, I couldn’t see either of them, and their voices didn’t seem to be a part of the hum of the base.
Fury doesn’t get it. She’s not a threat to us or the country, Agent Coulson said back. The two sentences seemed discordant despite how clearly I was hearing them, so the exchange confused me.
Coulson doesn’t understand. She could go rogue, she could be a threat-
Phillips doesn’t understand. I know her, she’s fine, she won’t be a problem-
They rounded the corner, speaking in calm voices unlike the ones I’d heard. “No, that shouldn’t be a problem, Agent Coulson,” Agent Phillips answered. “I’ll leave her to you now.”
“Thank you, Agent Phillips,” Agent Coulson replied, smooth as ever.
In a burst of shock, I realized that the reason their prior conversation was so different from the one I’d heard was because I’d heard their inner thoughts. How that was related to my earlier Taser incident I didn’t know, but in the meantime…
“Agent Coulson,” I started, and he looked down at me. “I know you don’t think I’m a threat or that I’m dangerous-and I promise I won’t go rogue-but I still think I should get tested. At least to start a record for SHIELD.”
“How did you-” he began.
“I think I read your mind?” I asked. “Agent Phillips doesn’t trust me either, so you might not want to tell many people.”
Still in shock, Agent Coulson nodded. “I’ll tell the director, but first I think it’s best we get you checked out.”
Slowly he began to take me to what I assumed was the med bay, if the lettering on the door was anything to go by. The doors opened and Agent Coulson walked me past unconscious agents and agents swathed in white pools of gauze to an exam room.
“Agent Lillian?” he asked, and a female doctor with pretty, burnt sienna-colored skin stuck her head out of what I guessed to be a prep room.
“Yes? Oh, hello Agent Coulson. What can I do for you?”
He smiled. “I have someone here that I just picked up from a trauma scene, and I want you to take a look at her.”
Her eyes moved to me. “I’m guessing it’s you?” she asked, smiling.
“Yeah,” I responded, grinning. “I’m Natalie. Natalie Evans.” I shook her hand and she jumped back as she felt the same spark I did.
“Ooh, static electricity,” she murmured, shaking out her hand. “Why don’t you have a seat on the exam table, and I’ll be out in just a sec?”
Agent Coulson looked at me. “I’ll be outside,” he told me.
She came back in a buttoned-up, powder blue lab coat with the SHIELD insignia over the left breast and matching gloves.
“So, would you tell me how you met Agent Coulson?” she asked, her eyebrows rising in inquiry.
“My stepdad was… well, beating me,” I started, “and just when it was about to get really bad… there he was.”
She laughed. “Phil and his dramatic entrances,” she said. “He should’ve been an actor instead of this job.” She unwound a stethoscope from around her neck, much like a pediatrician would, and guided the plugs into her ears. “You know the drill,” she smiled, holding the round piece to my sternum. I felt a spark contact the stethoscope and heard her hiss.
“Sorry,” I murmured. “I don’t know how much he told you, but he thinks I have pyrokinesis.”
“That would explain a lot,” she said. “Hang on, I gotta get something else.” She coiled up the stethoscope and came back with a whole new set of tools, these ones matte black in color.
I raised an eyebrow at them, and she replied, “Anti-shock tools.” She gestured at me and I sat up, ready for her to probe.
She did the standard checks: heart rate, blood pressure, cholesterol, etc. I watched as she pulled out a butterfly needle, tourniquet, alcohol, and a gauze pad.
“Do you have any of that spray anesthetic?” I asked, and she looked at me before giving me a sympathetic glance. She opened a drawer, pulling out an aerosol bottle.
“You wouldn’t believe how many cans of this I go through a month,” she grinned. “SHIELD agents are less tough than you’d think.”
I bit my lip as she rubbed the swab over the crook of my arm, poking it to raise a vein. She tied a tourniquet around my bicep. I looked away as the aerosol spray seemed to freeze my skin, but still felt the tight pinch as the needle went into my skin.
Looking over, I watched her capably change the vials until she had about eight or so sitting on the table. She undid the tourniquet, then pressed a wad of gauze over the needle mark, sticking a grey band-aid with little SHIELD insignias all over it over the wad.
“Awwh,” I smiled, “I didn’t know that you guys had band-aids.”
“So there’s your blood test,” she said, “I’m going to need to do some more… personal ones now.”
Long story short, it seemed SHIELD needed to know everything about me from head to toe. Feeling almost disgusted when they were done, I cinched my belt again as she beckoned Agent Coulson back into the room.
“Phil, seeing as you’re her caretaker, I’m obligated to share her results with you,” she said, and he nodded. “She’s clean of STDs or STIs, and her cell counts are normal. She told me that she has a familial predisposition to diabetes, primarily type I, so I tested her for that, but her insulin and glucose levels are normal. Other than that, I don’t see any other problems.”
Agent Coulson nodded, face yet again impassive, and I released a sigh of relief that I hadn’t realized I was holding.
“You can take her on to physical testing, if she’s ready,” the doctor continued. Agent Coulson looked at me and I shrugged, looking at him to deduce his answer.
“I think she is,” he finally stated, nodding. I looked at him, but he was looking at the door. Agent Romanoff’s slight yet built frame blocked my only way out, and I was suddenly scared of what she could do to me. Her green eyes found mine, and I winced internally.
“C’mon,” she said, and without a word I followed her.