I am back again!
This story I am going to try and work on a lot because it has a lot of potential I think. I hope everyone doesn't mind me switching gears for my naruto and others to Avengers. The idea just kinda hit me the other day and I though some of you would like it.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing except for the OC Dr. Thora Elizbet Danielsen. Directer Fury belongs to Stan Lee and MARVEL Comics/Studios.
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Prologue
The house sat on probably the least used road in the small town. There were fruit trees and rose bushes in the front of the house, and a white picket fence to protect the yard from unwanted animal guests such as stray dogs. On the bottom porch step was two saucers of milk on either end, to feed the hordes of stray cats in the area. The owner looked at the cats as this: Feed the cats, and the cats will hunt the mice for you.
The house in question was two stories with three bedrooms, one was a guest room, one was an office, and one a master bedroom. There were two bathrooms—a full bath connected to the master bed room with a shower and a free standing tub. The other was smaller with only a shower. The living room was down stairs, as was a music room and a large kitchen. There was also another room, what would usually be a dining room in most houses of this style. Instead, this room resembled an office—not like the one that was upstairs, but similar doctor's office… a head doctor's office. Well, the word "head" is used loosely. Another name would be Shrink or Psychiatrist. But this office was different. It was more or so a sitting room. The typical psychiatrist's couch was shoved against the wall with blankets and pillows piled over it and a large overstuffed armchair placed at the foot so there was a backing. Then there was a Victorian style chess table set in front of the large bay windows that also had a bench under the sills on the wall. There was a large cabinet full of board games at the eastern end of the room, and a large bookcase filled with every current popular book. The room didn't feel like a psychiatrist's office at all actually. It felt like a sitting room where family members could sit and talk.
And on the front door was a sign:
Dr. Thora Elizbet Danielsen.
Psychiatrist.
Good Friend.
Walk-Ins Welcome.
And that was the home in which a tall dark skinned man with an eye patch stood waiting for said woman to come in with a cup of coffee.
"Here, you are Mr. Fury," she said with a smile as she handed him a cup of coffee. They stood in the office, and the woman had the smile still plastered on her face. "Now what was it you wished to speak with me about?"
"First, how is your success at detecting the truth?"
"If you're asking that, then you already know, Mr. Fury," she said cryptically as she sipped her cup of tea. "If that is really your name."
"My name is actually Fury, but it would be the title of Director Fury, Dr. Danielsen. I am part of a secret government agency called S.H.E.I.L.D., or Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. I need someone with your talent."
"What do you want me to do?" she asked, sitting in a small blue and red armchair.
"There is an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people, so when we needed them, they can fight the battles that we never could. I need you to make sure they are stable and trustworthy," he said as he sat down his coffee.
"There is more to it. You are leaving a lot of it out," her blue eyes were sharply staring at him, with a gaze that would make even the toughest man flinch. Which, Fury did.
"You also be an on board psychiatrist for most of the trip."
"And?"
"You cannot tell a living soul about your mission. You can say you were asked to do psych evaluations on government prisoners. Nothing else."
That was when the tea was very slowly sat down, and the woman's hand pushed off the chair as she stormed over to him. "Did you see the signs on the walls next to the door to this room? You might want to read them again." And she stormed out.
Fury stepped out of the room and looked at the four signs, two on each side. The first one on the left read.
Is solace anywhere more comforting than in the arms of a sister?
~Alice Walker
He huffed and looked at the sign under it.
Brothers and sisters are as close as hands and feet.
~Vietnamese Proverb
He rubbed his head. "This isn't telling me anything." Then he looked at the right. The signs were handmade, by a mediocre carver, but larger and still elegant in their own right. The top one said.
Here I Recite My Sisterly Vow.
The things I here now in this room,
Shall never be repeated.
Unless the vow of silence does mean death,
then with my soul to thank I shall echo what is needed.
My arms are open,
My Heart is wide.
This is my sacred sister's oath,
That all stays on that door's inside.
A Sister does not repeat the secrets of her siblings,
Be them blood or not.
Blood be Thicker than Water,
But Love Is stronger than all else.
Fury rubbed his head. The words made some sense, but at the same time none… what about the next poem?
Secrets Be Kept Safe
Secrets are to be away bound,
Not passed around.
A secret is of value,
A sign of Trust.
Psychiatrists are entrusted with these,
But many do forget,
That we are sworn to never tell,
And laugh and gossip of their patients.
Thus my vow above,
To be a Sister Dear to all,
A person who keeps all secrets,
But warns of deadly behavior.
The man sighed. This woman was no doubt gonna drive him nuts.
"Someone once said, 'I, who have no sisters or brothers, look with some degree of innocent envy on those who may be said to be born to friends,'" a soft voice said, and Director Fury turned to see Dr. Danielson in the hall. "If I do what you ask, it will be done my way, and no other way. Wherever I will be staying, it is going to look exactly like my house whether you like it or not. A place that feels like a home gets people to speak more than a place that feels cold."
"Fine." Oh how he felt that he was going to regret this…