Asia sat, legs crossed, on the bed of the small containment chamber, aka personal prison, aboard the Bus. Her eyes were closed as she quietly meditated, focusing her intent on the cold powers which surged through her. When she opened her eyes, a small line of stalagmites were ringing around the bed, exactly as she had hoped and planned.
She held her palm out in front of her, facing down, fingers flexed far apart. Taking in a deep, slow breath, she squeezed her palm into a tight fist, the pillars of ice shattering to pieces in front of her. A pleased smile slipped over her lips. Progress.
Asia's days went like this, now. Leo would come in every morning, at 0800 exactly, and draw her blood, check her vitals, kiss her tenderly on the forehead, then leave. She would meditate from 0800 to 1200, when Coulson would arrive to bring her lunch. At 1300 he would leave, and Jemma would appear, taking in her stats and reporting any noticeable changes. After 1400, her time was hers to do as she pleased. Which meant reading, sleeping, or more training. She spent a lot of her time training herself, learning to control it.
She looked at the small wristwatch that was monitoring her pulse and other outputs. It was 1130. She had half an hour till Coulson's daily report. Sighing, she stood off the bed, planting her bare feet flat on the cool floor.
She closed her eyes, feeling all of the air and moisture around her, feeling the water that composed herself and everything around her. She could feel all of it. What she was working on now was the extent of what she could do.
She raised both arms in front of her, forming her fingers into the shape of a gun on each hand. She lined them up with two specific points on the wall and took a deep breath, squeezing her thumb down.
Two very small, very fast, bullets of ice shot from her body, forming and shifting in the air before shattering against the wall, tiny blades and fragments falling to the ground. She had gotten quiet good at that one.
The other movements Asia practiced reminded her quite a bit of the Tai Chi movements she had learned while on a month long mission overseas. And, silly enough, reminded her a bit of some of the movements from the show Avatar the Last Airbender. Maybe it was that visualization that helped with her control, perhaps it didn't. But it helped her see what she wanted to do.
She recoiled her leg, pitching herself forward, moving her arms with fluidity as she did so, a trail of ice floating through the air behind her fingers. With each upward thrust of her hands, pillars rose from the ground. With each slash of her foot, a jagged row of icicles lashed out around her in an arch. It wasn't graceful, yet. But yet was the word that kept Asia practicing daily. She was becoming more fluid and controlled. Rarely now did she wake up surrounded by a winter wonderland. For the most part, it was starting to working.
She continued to practice like this, inhale, exhale, retract, extend, create, diffuse, until there was a series of knocks on her door. The knocks were simply a formality. Coulson was coming in to bring her food whether she wanted him to or not. Looking at the icy landscape currently covering her small rectangular room, Asia sighed before shouting, "come in!"
Her boss entered, carrying a tray of hot food. Steaming soup, bread, some grilled vegetables. The savory smells made her mouth water. Setting the tray down on a small table beside her bed, he glanced around her room at the ice structures. "I see you've been practicing," he said with a nod. She couldn't tell if he was pleased or impressed, or if it was for show.
"I try," she replied with a tight lipped smile. Turning to face the ice in front of them, she clapped her hands together, then trust them upwards and apart. The ice shattered and evaporated in front of them, hissing away into the air. "Whats on the menu today?" She asked, folding herself onto bed and tucking her legs beneath her.
"Homemade broccoli cheese soup and toast," Coulson replied, nodding at the tray in front of her, and Asia picked up some bread, nibbling at it. "So, how has the testing been going?" He asked her quietly. "I know it's not the most comfortable situation, but we have to do it."
Asia shrugged. "SHIELD has always been my life, I know how this works. And they aren't bad, honestly." She sipped some of the soup, then raised her eyes back to Coulson. "So, I'm assuming I'm on the Index by now?" She asked, referencing the large database used to label powered people.
"Yes, you have been placed on the Index," Coulson replied with a small nod, studying for reaction, waiting for the small temperature gauge on his wrist to buzz and alert him the room temp had dropped significantly. But no buzz came.
Asia nodded for a moment, before slurping from her soup once more, licking her lips. "Would be silly not to," she shrugged. "I do fit all the criteria. But on the upside, clearly my control is becoming much more noticeable. I haven't had any outbursts recently. Everything is good." She looked up at him, meeting his gaze.
"Agent Monroe," Coulson began slowly, trying to figure out exactly what to say. "We do need to have you evaluated. By a doctor."
Asia leaned back against her wall for a moment, watching him. "Phil." She began, using his first name now to address him. "You know I don't need that. I know how this works. I don't need a desk chair to tell me what I can or can't do."
"Actually, you do," Coulson replied calmly. "It's protocol. Skye is doing the same exact thing. Afterwords, we'll move on from there."
"Alright," Asia accepted after a moment. "I'll do the full psych eval. But make sure it's someone good. Someone who gets it," she gave Coulson a small grin. "And then, after he tells you I've got it all under control, we can talk about getting me out of this cell."
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That evening, nightmares plagued Asia's mind. Twisted dreams of being exiled from SHIELD. Of Jemma and also, together, in love, now that she had been removed from the equation. Of Leo, not even remembering her. Of finding the small polaroids of them and burning them, ash to ash dust to dust. Her sleep was fitful, tossing and turning the entire time, but never once receiving the blessing of waking from her nightmares.
Not until the morning. The nightmare reached its peak. She woke, the last image in her mind being Jemma, a gun to her head, whispering the words, "you must be eradicated." She heard the trigger pull, and jolted awake.
Pulling her sheets close around her shoulders, she shivered. Looking at her room, it was covered in ice. Hanging from the walls, clinging to the floor. Arched around the door. Little bits of hail blew and fluttered around the room. Asia pulled her knees to her chest, burying her head in them and letting out a sob.
She had lost control, again.
YOU ARE READING
Renegade Rising || Leo Fitz Book Two
Fanfiction**this is a sequel to Birds of a Feather** Following the acts of Birds of a Feather, we find ourselves amidst the story of SHIELD after their fall. Phil Coulson has become the new Director of SHIELD and is working on assembling those still loyal to...
