The Blank Slate

Prologue

I was pretty positive the handcuffs were completely unnecessary. I mean I obviously wasn't planning on going anywhere. I wanted answers just as much as all the people I was positive were scrutinizing me through the two-way glass behind me. But apparently all it takes is spontaneously and mysteriously appearing in Nick Fury's office to label yourself a threat to S.H.I.E.L.D. worthy of interrogation in a tiny room with an obnoxiously bright light while handcuffed to the desk.

I was so busy staring at the handcuffs and my hands that I didn't hear her enter until the electronic tablet was placed on the table. But what else could one expect from the legendary Maria Hill? There was certainly a reason the Director valued her as much as he did. And I realized I somehow knew that information. That was new. She was the first person I had recognized since I got here. The metal chair scraped across the floor as she took a seat across from me, dressed in a blue uniform with an eagle emblem emblazoned on the sleeve. She was clearly giving her best intimidating glare as she pulled something up on her tablet. I'm sure it had brought many men to their knees over the years, but I simply stared right back at her. I had nothing to hide. I was literally a blank slate and they would know it if they took even a minute to hear my side of things.

"Here's what's going to happen," she began, voice like steel cutting through you. "You are going to tell me who you are, how you got into the most secure office in possibly the world, and why the hell you were there in the first place. There are no other options. There are no second chances. Talk," she commanded.

"Are you sure it's okay?" I shot back. "Because every time I've attempted some goon has hit me over the head and threatened me to keep quiet. It hasn't been very polite and I'm definitely considering leaving a negative word at the door." Wow. Snark. Huh. I hadn't been expecting that to come out of my mouth- and judging by her look neither had Maria Hill. But then I felt my mouth just keep going as if possessed. "I will add it to constant manhandling with inappropriate touching, rooms that seriously need a dimmer switch, and the fact that my hand is chafing from these handcuffs." With those words, I learned more about myself than I had for the past two hours being stuck here.

Maria merely leaned forward slightly. "I'm not going to repeat myself," she made clear, reiterating the control she had over the situation. I felt my mouth wanting to run again, but I quickly held it in check. I wasn't going to get anywhere like that.

"Would you believe me if I said I had no idea… about any of it?" I offered, leaning forward over the desk to close some of the distance. I need to appear nonchalant to even have a shot at her believing me. "At this point, I'm lucky that I remember my name." It had been the first thing that came to my mind when I woke up instantly followed by the very scary and real thought that it was the only thing that came to my mind… at least in regards to myself.

"And what would that be?" Hill inquired coldly. She clearly didn't believe me but was starting wherever she could. She was lucky I was in the giving mood right now.

"Agent Ashleigh Crawford of S.H.I.E.L.D."

She was glaring at me again. "S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't employ anyone with that name in any version of our records. I highly recommend you stop lying before this interview turns painful in other ways."

"That is who I am. It is literally the only thing I remember, so I'm choosing to believe it's the truth. It has to be. Thus I have no idea why Director Fury found me unconscious in his office. I don't remember going there. I couldn't even find my way there now. I don't know why I was there. I don't even in this moment know what my hair color is. I'm close to freaking out about that, I admit, but I haven't been able to check with these accessories you gave me," I flashed the handcuffs. "All I have is Agent Ashleigh Crawford of S.H.I.E.L.D."

Agent Hill glanced down at the tablet for a long minute before looking up at me again. "And if what you're saying is true, what do you think happened?" I must have looked dumbstruck. "If you're supposedly an Agent here, then I would expect you to be able to figure it out."

"You believe me?" I questioned. It couldn't be this easy.

"I never believe anything anyone says. I do, however, believe the lie detector in your handcuffs," she held up the tablet to reveal my vitals. And here I had been thinking I might just have had a trustworthy face or something. I couldn't recall what it looked like. For all I knew it might have been the ugly kind someone just really wanted to punch. I needed a mirror stat at this point. But the handcuffs kept me stuck facing forward along with revealing every breath. Leave it to S.H.I.E.L.D. to have all the fun toys. "Why do you think you're here?" she repeated, slower.

"I'm sorry. My train of thought went off the rails. It's been a really weird- you don't care," I guessed from her gaze. "Okay. I have a working theory, actually. Someone, possibly myself- I'm not ruling that out, really wanted to get your attention." She waited for me to continue, but I merely shrugged. I had nothing else really to offer. I certainly didn't remember anything at least. I don't get why she felt it necessary to glare. It was as good a guess as any. "Showing up in the Director's office seems like a pretty good way to do that," I felt I needed to add. "It certainly got me a quick appointment with you."

"Showing up while all the cameras and microphones have been disabled might take it to a whole new level," she added after a beat before turning the tablet around. It displayed the room I vaguely remembered- big chair and desk in front of a large window, time speeding through the night without a sign of anyone. Then it all went dark for less than a minute in real time before cutting back in again with a figure in the middle of the carpet. Or more accurately an unconscious me in the middle of the carpet. I tried to get a look at my possibly punch-worthy face, but she had the tablet pulled away before I could. "All we have is some weird energy readings from the room in that moment. We have a department looking at it. You honestly have no idea how you got there?" she reiterated.

"You know I don't. I would have cracked the moment I walked in if I had. You're too terrifying to not to." I leaned back a little in the chair. "I don't have a lot going on up there in terms of memories, but for some reason you're the first person who looks even a hint familiar. I know not to cross you… somehow."

"Why do you think someone went to this much trouble for your attention?"

Ah, the big moment. "I also have a working theory on that one. If you would be so kind as to pull up my right sleeve?" I was lucky to have a few moments before security arrived in the office to notice my arm and quickly hid it with what appeared to be a hideous long-sleeved red flannel shirt. I seemed to have a whole lumberjack look going on with thick brown boots and jean, though something told me this wasn't my style in the slightest. Would it be rude to ask for a change of clothes in an interrogation scenario?

Agent Hill silenced my train of thought by harshly yanking up the sleeve, making me wince in pain. She found it quickly enough and I just watched her stare in disbelief for a long moment. "It's red and raw so it has to be new. Like yesterday new," I deduced. "I have no idea what it means or why I got it. You can check your tablet on that." I looked up to see she was somehow more serious which seemed impossible, but also more somber. She was no longer trying to intimidate me but seemed… concerned.

"Do you recognize that name?" she asked, voice betraying just a bit of emotion. "Do you know what happened?"

I shook my head, but knew I needed to add the detail. Something in my brain screamed to me that it was important. "I have a word that comes to me when I look at it. It just pops into my brain. But it's stupid and makes no sense." Her look told me I wasn't getting out of here until I said it. "It's Tahiti."

With that, she exited the room. I waited patiently, staring at it and hoping something else would come to me. I really wanted something to come to me. The date. What my job actually was in what I guessed to be a pretty secret organization. If I had a boyfriend. The important stuff. But all I got was a vacation destination.

She was back in a few minutes with a few other agents. "We're going to move you into a cell-room for the night. The Director needs some time to think this one over." My wrists were released from the handcuffs and I was roughly pulled to my feet. "Nothing changes the fact that our records show you're not employed here. Why and how you have that very classified information… we need to figure that out."

"I'll be looking forward to the answer as much as you, Agent Hill." I started to be led out the door, but not before wildly turning to get a glance in the mirror. It wasn't a face that should be punched at all, at least in my humble opinion. In fact, I almost looked like I could be a model it was so symmetric. My eyes were a bright blue and my lips were pencil thin. I had to be younger, younger than Hill at least. And it was blonde. A natural blonde too from the looks of it. I thankfully knew now I was a blonde though my hair currently looked like a frizzy train wreck sticking up at all angles. Check off one question from my brain. It only left like a million to go.

I was led down the sprawling corridors before being deposited in what I assumed to be one of the nicer rooms judging by the fact it had a mattress with a pillow. I'm sure some don't even get that. They left me in the sterile white room without a second glance and I felt the sound of the lock behind me. "Alone at last," I said lightly to the empty room, though I knew for sure there had to be at least two cameras locked on me right now. "Just me and my thoughts."

I suppose it hadn't really hit me yet until that moment, and when it did it nearly choked me. I didn't know who I was. Like I literally had no idea about anything- my favorite color, where I lived, if I had a family. I couldn't remember my family- not a single face. I couldn't remember anything that got me to this point- school, training, or even just growing up. I knew what a bike was, but I couldn't remember if I ever had one. It was like I was empty, hollow. I had everything removed from me and I couldn't find it. But I had the sense it had been on purpose- I had chosen this. Something had made me agree to have this happen. But I might have been wrong about that because right now Current Me had no freaking idea why Past Me would ever agree to this. It quite frankly sucked… a lot.

I perched myself on the bed, drawing my knees up to my chin and wrapping my arms around them. Something told me I must have did this often when I was upset judging by the comfort it gave me despite this whole crazy situation. My eyes drifted to my arm, sleeve still rolled up, and the fresh tattoo with its two line of cursive scrawl emblazoned on my forearm. I still didn't have the faintest idea what they meant, but I hoped I had when I decided to permanently emblazon my skin with them. Hopefully Past Me had done it with an important purpose and not just on some drunken bender with my roommates. Or at least I hoped I was the first kind of person. I had no way of being sure at this point after all. All I could do was hope, because it seemed like someone was counting on me. Really counting on me.

Join Coulson's team.

You need to save him.