The Snapshot {An Agents of Shield Fanficton} [1]

Hope

I held back a smile. "I can do that."

"How?," Coulson inquired.

I looked at both of them and drew in a breath. "Fields. I have something that I think can make her give a statement."

"So you plan to talk to her?"

I nodded. "One hour. That's all it would take. One hour and this entire problem is off your hands."

"And, if I may, what is your motive for doing this?," Truman asked.

"I've known people like him before and this isn't what he deserves. SHIELD did him wrong and I'm trying to make it right."

"That's not your job, to make things right."

"I don't have a job. But this is something to do until I leave for sure," I said, my face blank. I stared at Truman. He was pondering what I said. Coulson, too.

I could do this. I know I can. For once in my life I am actually sure that this is the right thing to do and I am fully capable of doing it.

Truman opened his mouth, but Coulson spoke for him.

"Lucy, we are very grateful for what you've done given the circumstances. You have helped us solve something we never could have otherwise. This might be taking it a bit too far, but there were always doubts about this case from the beginning. A lot has happened in the past week... three agents have turned and now we are facing a much bigger problem. But there's still the matter of Richards. If you really, truly believe that he's innocent and should walk free, then you're going to have to stay a bit longer to help us prove it."

"I don't think that will be an issue."

~•~

Everything has changed.

I heard these words coming from the voice inside my head. I heard the clack of my boots as I walked across the tile and the soft woosh of air as people passed by. I heard the soft, muffled sound of the conglomeration of voices around me.

I felt the emotions and feelings of people around me. It didn't take much. All I had to do was look at a person, and I felt their presence press against me like a soft wall, surrounding me and showering me with their emotions, making the pit of my stomach twist and turn.

I would look away quickly and close my eyes, attempting to focus on what was mine and solely mine, but it was becoming near impossible. I was fighting a war inside myself that no one else could or ever would understand.

My surroundings were filtered by a screen of unfocused blurryness, and in my state of being, I wasn't there at all.

The only thing keeping all these pieces of me together was my mission. My quest, trek, and assignment. Make someone else's life better than my own.

"Wait here."

I was snapped from my thoughts by Coulson's voice. I watched as he opened a door in front of me, stepping inside and closing it.

This is it. My only chance to prove myself. I can't blow it, and not for my sake either.

The door opened again and Coulson stepped back out. He beckoned for me to come.

I followed him and stepped inside. We were back in the familiar small room with the window and the room. Through the window was the table and the chairs; along with the woman known as Rosette Fields. I looked around. We were alone this time, Coulson and I.

"Are you ready?," he asked.

I looked at his face. I was hit with all the memories associated with him, starting that one Tuesday in the back field, all the way up to that moment in the tunnel, my hands covered in blood. He seemed content, slightly concerned, and indecisive. He most likely didn't want this, but must have agreed anyway for some unknown cause. He was standing before me now, ready to send me into something he knew I could handle, but was still concerned. I guess that shows something.