Subsequent to a mission with the S.T.R.I.K.E team, it was customary for the head of the team, myself, to deliver a mission report to Director Fury. In the event a member of the team was injured, said person was required to see the Director as well. Rumlow offered to take the duty of providing the report. I declined.
As I crept past the nurses, who told me multiple times I was not ready to be discharged, I shamed myself for not accepting his offer. My nurse had taken my clothes, including my bra, to be washed. I was left to sneak out in jeans and a baggy shirt I stole from the sleeping Agent in the room beside mine. I tried to hide the bounce of my breasts by crossing my arms. I couldn't hide the redness in my pale cheeks.
My head moved between the elevator doors and the bumbling nurses dancing around the hospital floor. I waited for my potential escape, or the potential dragging back into the recovery room. I heard the doors slide open. Watching the nurses, I dove in and jabbed the buttons ridiculously until the doors closed. My arms dropped. An exhale slouched my shoulders, relieved to be free.
"I guess this would be a bad time to say hello?" asked a familiar voice hesitantly.
Startled, I tumbled back, slamming my head into the wall. My hands slapped over the throbbing spot on my head. Steve's widened eyes and quick inhale caused my hands to cover my chest again. At the end of my panic, we were back to back, drowning in varying degrees of embarrassment.
"Where are you headed?" asked Steve.
"To see Director Fury," I said, "What about you?"
"I was heading to see you, actually," he said sheepishly.
"Oh," I said. I failed to hide the surprise in my tone.
"I'm sorry, if I overstepped my boundaries. I thought you could use some company, I guess, I didn't mean anything by it, other than--"
"No, no, that's sweet of you. Thank you," I interrupted.
Steve turned his head. "It was my pleasure. I'm happy to help anytime you need it."
"Ditto," I said, turning my body to face his. I ensured my chest was covered. I didn't have to worry much, as his eyes didn't dare to leave my own.
"Listen, Clara, I would like to ask if you--"
"Agents," greeted Fury. The doors had slid open. Steve and I sprung apart. "Blake, follow me."
I tried to postpone his order, desperate to hear what Steve wanted to say, but Fury made it clear he wasn't going to wait for me. He continued to walk. I was forced to slowly back out of the elevator, rambling apology after apology to Steve as I did so. Luckily, the doors of the elevator closing allowed my mouth to do the same. I pouted, wondering what he could have said, if the chance had come.
"Blake!" shouted Fury, his voice distant.
I sprinted after his voice. Into the parking garage I followed, then I climbed into the company issued S.U.V. he had waiting for me. He drove, I watched the road pass by. We remained silent. I waited for him to speak.
"Project Insight," he said, at last. "I assume you've heard of it."
"It's why the new helicarrier's are being built, isn't it?" I asked.
Fury nodded once. "Agent Romanoff was given a separate mission. She was to extract data of Project Insight from the Lemurian Star."
"And how is it that I fit into this?" I asked.
"A rendezvous between the two of us and Maria Hill is to happen in a few hours. We need to talk about Project Insight," he said.
I failed to see my significance in the meeting. "Why me?"
"You're a witness to the mission."
I didn't argue. I didn't think beyond his vague reason. I fell quiet, I settled my elbows on my knees, then nuzzled my head into my hands. The open windows blew a soothing breeze through my thin shirt. I was in a blissful state for several minutes.
Fury, uttering a monotone, "Wanna see my lease?" broke me out of my minor nap.
I found him looking at a Police owned vehicle stopped beside our own. I lowered my head into my hands again, although I didn't make it, due to a car slamming into the bumper. I glanced at the rear view mirror, only to find that it was the cop car who rear ended us. I gripped the dashboard as two other cars slammed into our S.U.V. As soon as our car was trapped, I lunged over Fury and sunk my fingers into the control panel. The windows sealed shut just as gunfire hailed on the car.
"Kid! You better get us out of here, fast!" shouted Fury.
I didn't blame him for being slightly panicked. I was, too, although our reasons differed. My trusted powers, my portals, refused to open. I waved my hands about, concentrating on thinking of a place I wanted to go, ordering a portal to open, but it was no use. Nothing was opening.
"Fury, I-I—"
He fumed. He ordered me to get into the backseat. I did as he asked, and he threw himself into my seat. Out from the arm rest popped a machine gun, which Fury fired at the attackers. As he did so, he shouted at the A.I. It took control, using the remaining energy left in the car to find us a way out of being trapped.
I wiggled my gun from the band on my thigh. I peaked from the sunroof, firing, aiming at the tires of the cars tailing us. I managed to crash one car. Accuracy within my shooting had decreased since I graduated training school. It was one of the tactics I let go after graduation— I never had use for guns when I had portals. Until now.
"Traffic block up ahead, sir," said the A.I. "It would be extremely wise to avoid it."
"Does it look like I can avoid it?" shouted Fury.
I took the liberty of looking at the mass of stopped cars for myself. In between the intersection and our rapidly approaching car, I spotted a man, dressed from head to toe in black. In the air, he held a gun. Towards our car he strutted, slow, unafraid, menacing. He aimed and fired a circular disc at our car. I heard it attach underneath the engine. I ducked into the car, gaining precious seconds to brace myself, before the disc exploded, flipping the car.
Blood tricked then not only trickled down my back, but on dozens of points across my body. I didn't need to look at my fingers to tell there were more than a few bent at unnatural angles. It was then my clenched muscles failed. I dropped from the seat, crumpled uncomfortably on the roof.
"Kid?" whispered Fury.
"I'm okay," I croaked." You?"
He didn't answer. I craned my neck to look at him. Still firmly planted in his seat, he maneuvered a sleek black stick from his jacket and activated it. He pressed the tip into the roof slowly, burning a hole through the car, then jammed it into the pavement.I wiggled through first. Gracefully, I fell a decent ten feet, until I crashed into more than a foot of murky sewage water.
By the time I was on my feet, Fury joined me. His hands cupped my face. "As of right now, S.H.I.E.L.D. is compromised. You trust no one," he said slowly. From my ear, he grabbed my earpiece, took his, then crushed them under his foot, shattering the technology.
My chest was heaving, and not because I was in pain. A look at my breathing pattern would have been a dead giveaway to my true feelings about the situation: I was in a state of panic.
Breathlessly, I asked, "What do you suggest we do?"
"I think I know a place we can go."
If I was to pinpoint someone to help me break into an apartment, Director Fury would not have been high on my list. I watched, in amazement, as he proved me wrong. Shoving my bobby pin into the lock, he jerked the doorknob roughly until it broke open. He wobbled in. I briefly heard him collapse in a recliner in the living room.
I left the door cracked. I limped throughout the apartment, locking every window except one. Once he detected the playing record, Steve wouldn't enter through the front door. He would take the opposite entrance: a window.
"Director," I said.
"Hush, kid," interrupted Fury. He waited for the record to spin before he spoke. "We need to stay quiet until Rogers gets home."
"And what do we do from there?" I whispered.
His silence told me that even the great Nick Fury didn't know exactly what we were supposed to do. If being attacked hadn't stirred the anxiety within my soul, it was his oblivion that did.