The following takes place in an AU (alternate universe), where SHIELD operates as per usual and Agent Coulson's team consists of May, Triplett, Skye, Fitz and Simmons.

Stainless steel machinery whirred about, creating a gentle hum, which filled the average sized room. At the centre of the large contraption that stood in the middle of the room was a girl. Her head was bent down in exhaustion and her long, dark, wavy hair obscured her face from view.

She was held up only by the restraints that had rubbed her wrists to a raw and angry red. Her body sagged, unable to sustain her weight any longer after countless hours of brutal draining. But what was most notable about the girl was her hands, or rather, what appeared to be coming out of them. Bright, white lights burst forth from each of her palms, so bright that it hurt to look at them for too long.

The girls mind was foggy, exhaustion clouding her head making basic thoughts a struggle. At this point she was attempting to order her mind once again; a process she undertook regularly as a last stroke of defiance against her captors who slowly debilitated her. She attempted to calculate how long she had been kept in the facility, which was made even more difficult for her considering she did not know any measurements of time nor any view of the outside world from her prison.

However, her shaky train of thought was brought to a halt by the whizz of the automatic doors opening and three sets of footsteps rushing into the room. Normally she wouldn't have bothered to even give them a thought, she knew they would be the head technician and his two lab assistants. They came to check on her often, make observations, take readings and sometimes change out her I.V. drip which supplied her with the nutrients that she required to keep her alive.

But this time something was different. Their footsteps were hurried and they talked in frantic voices. She listened into their conversation, she was unable to understand what they were saying but it seemed important and she would be able to store the information in her brain and perhaps figure it out at some point.

"What about the girl?"

"Leave her. Once we show the boss these stats, he'll grant us anything we want. Including enough force to retrieve her from wherever she decides to hide."

"But sir if SHIELD-"

"I said leave her. What we need now is to get as much of our work as we can, destroy the rest and get the hell out of here before we end up in a bloody SHIELD prison."

The conversation ended there and the scuffling continued for a few more minutes.

"Is everything erased?" The head technician asked

"Yes"

"Good. Smash the computers, I'm not taking any chances."

With that the doors whizzed open and shut. Then sounds filled the air indicating that the computers and equipment were being broken. The girl raised her head at the sound, completely clueless as to what was happening. She watched as the two people destroyed everything, yet allowing the machine that kept her captive to keep running.

When the two had finished the made their way towards the door, not even sparing a look for the helpless girl they were leaving behind.

The girl stared at the door for what felt like hours. Even her mind, which contained so little, understood what was happening. They were leaving. And she wasn't. She dropped her head once again, a new wave of defeat washing over her as tears of heartbreak and desperation pooled in her eyes. She was so caught up she didn't register when the doors slid open again.

"Oh my god" came a voice from the doorway.

She looked up through the tears in her eyes to see a man staring straight at her. Straight away she knew he was different, just the way he looked at her. Eyes filled with sympathy, compassion and kindness. Unlike the others, they would barely look at her at all. And when they did it was with fear or hate or just general indifference.

The man rushed forward fiddling with something she couldn't quite see and then the machine around her switched off, halting the beams of light and releasing her from the bonds that had previously assaulted her wrists. With nothing holding her up, she collapsed onto the ground, entirely spent.

But she hardly noticed, instead she focused intently on the man, her tears now forgotten. The tried to commit every aspect of him to her memory as he rushed to her side and leant over her, trying to make her more comfortable as he called for help. She felt herself fading as she took note of his brown curls, his burgundy shirt and tie, his blue eyes which scanned over her looking for injuries, his dark blue cardigan. But before she could quite finish her list her vision faded into blackness.