Footsteps outside the door. Sweaty palms and dry chlorine filled hair on this summer night. The faint glow of a dimmed iPhone illuminates my unwashed face. I'm hot and uncomfortable underneath the black fleece blanket I have thrown over the top half of my body. It's a small price to pay for getting to watch YouTube videos and read fanfiction all night. I hear more footsteps, so I shove my I phone under my pillow and pretend to sleep, but as usual, it's just my mother using the bathroom. I am in the middle of reading some cute Avengers fic about Tony Stark going cross-dressing with Banner. It's well written, and funny, but maybe a bit too out of character for me. I hear the toilet flush, the sink running, and the door open. The footsteps fade and the hall light turns off, so I sit up, walk to my dresser and grab my brush. My hair is like a mat, and I can never stand that. I wince at I rip the brush through my short golden locks but I am so used to it now I barely feel a thing. After that I lay back down in my bed, to return to my fan fiction. As soon as my side hits the mattress, my world starts to spin. The room starts to rotate, and out of habit I clutch my iPhone close. Everything is going faster, and my surroundings start to change, like frames from old film. I see space, then a forest, and then sharks circling me with bloody teeth. It goes from being in a fancy restaurant, to in a coal mine, to flying above a city, to in a prison cell. Then everything slows, and I'm falling through whiteness. I curl into a ball and scream, my stomach flipping over a thousand times. I squeeze my eyes shut as hard as I can, trying to block out everything, make it all a dream. But just as I start thinking I'm insane, I hit a hard surface. I feel like a bug landing splat onto a window. I pause, and look up. I am sitting against a wall in a long metal hallway that curves to my left. There are many different lights on the ceiling, I guess to each hold a different meaning. I stand on shaky knees. Putting my iPhone in my pocket I tell myself that I "Must be dreaming." I have head very few lucid dreams in my lifetime, but when I do, I get absolute control over them. But everything feels too real, and when I try to make a giant ice cream appear in front of me nothing happens, so I shiver and start to walk slowly down the hall.
"What the hell was that?!" Exclaims agent Coulson. "A massive surge of energy down in level one sir. It's narrowed down to about the width of a human. Almost exactly like what happened with Thor sir, except this was just a flash of energy that just came and went in a blink of an eye." The tech agent explains. "Give me surveillance on that corridor." Orders Coulson. The tech agent types a few keys and a live surveillance feed pops up. A girl with short blonde hair, black sport capris, and a black tank top is slowly moving down the hall. "Get a team down there and put her in a cell. Contain her for questioning until further notice." Coulson orders. "Yes sir."
This certainly is strange. There are almost always people in my dreams, but this hallway seems empty. I continue to walk until something stops me dead in my tracks. To my left is a dark grey S.H.E.I.L.D. symbol on the smooth grey wall. So this is new. I had never dreamt about the Marvel universe, despite my thorough love for it, and had never had a dream with this much detail. I must be on the helicarrier. Just then I hear heavy footsteps coming from in front of me. I figure this bad, and start to run in the other direction. When I start running, the footsteps do to, so, panicked, I break into a full sprint. The footsteps slowly become less audible, but I still keep running. After about 50 meters, doors start to appear, each marked something like, 1A or 2A. I'm so glad my parents made me run track; I could sprint for about another 200 meters. But just as I start thanking my parents, more footsteps start coming from my front. I wipe my brow, turn around and start sprinting again. Footsteps coming from both front and back, I feel trapped, like a fox being chased by bloodhounds, horses, and humans. I stop and try to think but I'm breathing too hard, and I'm too hot to think quickly. By the time that the idea of going through one of the doors pops into my head, both groups of men are visible. I have caught my breath now, so I jump up, grab hold to a pole with all my might, and try to swing over the guards, but my sweaty palms and weak arms fail me, so I fall to the floor hitting my head hard on the wall. As things start to look a bit out of focus, I hear one of the men. "Shit… it's a kid." "Shut up Carl. Orders are orders." Then I see the butt of a gun as it strikes my head and my muscles relax, unconscious.
When I awake, I am in a cold, grey room with windows looking out towards the hall. I'm strapped to something like a dentists chair, with plastic leather cuffs. A video camera is in the right corner near the door, it's tiny red light the only color besides grey in the room. I blink hard from the aching pain in my head. Crap. Two huge blows to the head. Defiantly not good. I was in the S.H.E.I.L.D. helicarrier, what the hell? Blow to the head in a lucid dream, waking up later with head pain, and the very prominent sense of feelings. This is defiantly not a dream, but then again, the marvel universe is not real, the marvel universe does not exist, it's a story, so am I going insane? Have they locked me in a box and left getting better a matter for me to resolve myself? I assume this to be the case, so I start tugging at the restraints to break free. Just then Agent freaking Phil Coulson swipes a card next to the door and enters with two other agents holding guns. "Hello miss. I'm Agent Coulson of SHEILD. I have a few questions to ask you concerning your identity and your break in to our secure facility." He gives me one of those short, quick, corners of mouth smiles. I give him the 'I'm gonna f*cking murder you' glare. He puts a tape recorder on the side table and presses record. "Please state your full name." I smile, my hair drifting in front of my face. What was the harm in telling myself my own name? "Kate, Maryanne, Doyle." I say flatly. Coulson nods, and continues with his questions. "Miss Doyle, may I ask-" "Stop." Phil stops talking at my interruption. "Something wrong?" I pause a moment. "What's the date?" I ask, lifting my head up, giving me a clear view of everything in the room. The agent stops for a moment, pondering my question, then replies. "It's May 4th, 2012. Why?" My heart starts to sink. Everything is seeming more and more real, so what if I'm not insane, what if this isn't a dream, what if for some impossible reason I actually am on the SHEILD helicarrier, on the 4th of May, 2012, and the Avengers, and Loki, and Fury, and Hill are all here too? It's absurd, crazy, and insane in every way I could imagine, but the most logical explanation of the facts. "Miss Doyle? We still have more questions." I blink twice, clearing my mind, stretch back my shoulders, and reply in a mysterious voice, "And I have some answers.
-YAY! I will try not to abandon this fic. Sorry in advance if I do.