Have you ever looked forward to something a lot? Like, you're counting down the days, you're just so excited that's kind of ridiculous?

That's how excited I was about my trip to Peru with my youth group. Usually, they went to Mexico, but they decided to toss things up a little – though not many people could come because it cost a lot. My parents paid for part of my trip, though, because they wanted to take a vacation, just the two of them, and they could do it while I was gone.

Why, you ask, was I so excited?

Aside from getting to visit another country, I was hoping that some time away from everything would give me a chance to just settle down, clear my head, think about some things, some problems I had. Does that seem like too much to ask, after the craziest year ever? I'd gone through more weird stuff in a year than most people ever do in a lifetime. It included, but was not limited to, being shot on national television, meeting a team of superheroes, and discovering that I had some crazy powers.

Well, apparently it was.

It started out fine. Helped with the building a church, worked on my Spanish, which is still absolutely terrible. I was always terrible with languages. If I'm lucky, I can introduce myself and ask directions. That's pushing it.

But, anyhow, so the third day was when things went rotten.

My memory fails me on why we had left the town we were staying in and were driving into the jungle. I think we were trying to get somewhere nearby and it was the quickest way.

Jack Lewis sat next to me in the back seat of the van as we bounced along the road, poking at something electronic – I think was his watch that he'd taken apart.

Next to us, Carmen's knitting needles clicked as she worked on a sock. She'd been trying to teach me to knit, but I could barely manage to learn the knit and purl stitch – she kept telling me it would take time. She was right. At the speed I was going, it would probably about a million years until I could produce anything I'd be caught dead wearing.

"So… Ivy," said Jack. "Did you watch that Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. episode before we left?"

"Yup."

"And…"

"I have spent this entire trip not thinking about it. I am not going to worry unless presented with immediate trouble."

"Okay, sorry I asked."

"Don't apologize. It was a perfectly logical question to ask, and you were within your rights to do so."

At that moment, the van died.

The driver – our youth pastor – got out. "I'm just going to take a look here for a minute."

Two vehicles drove by. I had a feeling I knew where they were from, and where they were going, and what was going to happen next. One stopped.

I leaned toward the window.

I didn't recognize any of the people in the vehicle, which was something of a relief. Outside, they talked in rapid Spanish, of which I might have understood one word in twenty. Or, more likely, thirty.

After a few minutes, Jack poked his head back in. His face was rather pale.

"They're archeologists and they're offering to let us come to their dig site while we figure out what to do."

He glanced to me as he crawled back in. I gave him a small nod.

Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., here I came.