"I wish you wouldn't do that", Laura narrowed her eyes at her friend Ellie.

"Do what?" Ellie raised an eyebrow as she bent her right index finger back, hearing the satisfying snap of her knuckles.

"Gross" Laura replied, shuddering at the noise.

"It could be so much worse, I could do this..." Ellie bent her finger further and further back, grinning gleefully at her best friend.

"Stop! Jeez!" Laura turned so her back was to Ellie, she was starving hungry, perusing the menu in the pub and was in no mood for Ellie's... peculiarities. Ellie shook her head, chuckling at her friends squeamishness. Given that the two women had been friends for years now, it was amusing that Laura was still freaked out by Ellie's special talents.

Ellie Gray slouched back in her seat, her hazel eyes took on a sheen of sadness for a second. She was careful to smile brightly at Laura when she looked up at her from the menu, asking Ellie if they did cheesey chips here, but she couldn't shake the melancholia. Never could. It made sense if you cared to learn Ellie Gray's birthday, which was the 3rd of March, this made her a piscean, the emotional star sign in straightforward astrology, if you believed in that sort of thing.

The bit that wasn't straight forward was the year of her birth. Ellie had been present at the start of the industrial revolution, she had witnessed the sinking of the Titanic and she had watched man land on the moon.

She knew that she shouldn't keep making these friends, like Laura, but she couldn't help it. Their lives were so beautiful and quick, so sharp in their focus and they gleamed with vitality that she had long lacked. She had been friends with Laura since Laura was 19. At the time, Ellie was pretending to be 22, a year older than she had been when she had stopped aging. It was getting to the inevitable point in Ellie's friendships, the point where her friends started to remark more and more on her youthful appearance, when joking replies about having good Italian blood, or a good skincare routine started to feel a little strained.

It wouldn't be long now, she would have ten more years with Laura, at the most. A 28 year old with the skin of a 21 year old was believable, but a 38 year old? Too much. It was such a shame, she loved Laura like a sister and could honestly say of all the friends she had collected over the years, it would be Laura who would be one of the most missed. In years to come, when she stood towards the back of Laura's funeral, or under the trees by her graveside, watching her body committed to the earth, the tears would fall with fierce abandon.

It was only after Laura had kicked her in the shin, that Ellie realised she hadn't replied to Laura's question.

"Sorry, cheesey chips? Yes, my dear, I think they do" Ellie took a quick gulp of her drink, while Laura eyed her friend suspiciously.

"What?"

"You do a lot of that nowadays," Laura observed, the quiet music in the pub seemed to quieten further as Ellie fixed a smile that said 'What on earth do you mean?'

"You know what I mean" Laura replied to the unasked question. "Staring off into the middle distance like you're in a period drama."

"Oh shut up, I do not!" Ellie waved her hand dismissively.

"Do" Laura replied curtly, grabbing her friends hand quickly.

"You can tell me if something is bothering you, y'know. I'm always here for you"

"Thank you, but really, nothing's wrong." Ellie halted the line of questioning, releasing her hand from Laura's and looked down at her menu. Laura took her cue and looked down at her own, the girls sat in amicable silence.

Ellie closed the door and placed her keys on the side board. She stepped away from the door before rethinking this and grabbing the keys again. She entered the hallway of her apartment block and wrinkled her nose at the smell of someone cooking on one of the upper floors. She had begun to contemplate how she was going to leave things with Laura. Where she would go next, maybe this time she could leave an address and extend the friendship for just that little bit longer. Maybe Laura would be the last. A walk will help me think, It hurt more each time she had to leave them, Ellie wasn't sure if she could take this empty feeling again.

Can't take it again? She thought to herself, it's not like you really have a choice, no checking out for you my dear. Ellie told herself that she had come to terms with what she was a long time ago, but truth be told, on nights like this, she realised that her acceptance was shaky at best. She had tried rationalising her condition, she had tried denying it, she had tried thinking of it as a long, drawn out punishment or nightmare, as a purgatory for her sins.

Ellie Gray can't die. Ellie Gray can't be killed. Ellie Gray isn't alive, but a parody of life. She couldn't explain it, there was no deal with the devil, there was no accident or heavenly visitor that bestowed this curse on her. Her last name wasn't even Gray, but she had adopted the surname after reading Oscar Wilde's "The Portrait of Dorian Gray", thinking that perhaps she had met Oscar Wilde in the past, as his rendering of the tortured immortal Dorian had so many shades of herself. She was not a good person, at least, she hadn't been in the past. She could be cruel, mean spirited, spiteful and vindictive. She had been of questionable morals, hurting people just to see what happened, trying thing just to see how they felt and she had spent the best part of one hundred years trying to fix the flaws in her character.

Ellie was 5'2'' if she stood ram rod straight, she had black hair that fell just past her shoulders. She was curvaceous, as had been the desired shape of a woman in her youth, it amused her to watch fashions change and her hourglass silhouette fall in and out of vogue. She used to try to follow fashion, in order to better fit in with others, but had soon realised the futility of her actions. She attempted every now and then to adopt changes in language, and most of her living friends had thought her mix of old English and new slang was a charming personality quirk. Ellie wrapped her scarf a little tighter around her face as the September wind rushed around a corner, chilling her face. Thunder rumbled in the distance somewhere, and Ellie quickened her pace.

New York was pretty this time of year, the leaves had started to turn and lined the streets gutters in browns and reds. She looked up at Stark tower, right near the Empire State Building, what a monstrosity. Rain began to splatter the sidewalk, and Ellie decided it was time to go back home.

Nick Fury leafed through the file with keen interest. An immortal, how useful, although the girl looked small and fragile, Fury thought back to last year, when the destroyer that Loki of Asgard had sent had leveled a small town, before his brother Thor had managed to defeat it. In the wreckage, Thor had promised Phil Coulson, a SHIELD agent, that he was now an ally of Earth and everyone had been watching the demi god in awe. Not Nick Fury, who was observing from one of the cars, he had been watching a small girl emerge from the wreckage, dust herself off and promptly walk out of town, not wishing to be seen. Nick Fury always noticed the small details, that was why he was the best at what he did and since that day, he had been tracking that small detail, eager for her special talents to be harnessed by SHIELD.

Fury's interest in the girl stemmed from the fact that she seemed indestructible, the pile of rubble she had emerged from last year should have killed her, but she was unscathed. After much searching for reports of seemingly immortal people, Fury had found a newspaper article, detailing a physician from London's account of a black haired girl that had stormed into his office, slicing her arm with a knife and demanding to know why she wouldn't die. It was reported that the girl had cut her arms for several hours without any ill effects, she never bled dry, she never passed out, she didn't die. Following the girl's story, Fury had reached a dead end once the girl had been reported to be in the care of Bethlem Royal Hospital, known more widely as Bedlam mental asylum. Once here, Ellie had managed to escape and there had been no sign of her since, the only remnant of her existence was an artists rendering of a small black haired girl, eyes filled with confusion and rage.

Agent Clint Barton knocked on Fury's open office door and entered, his eyes quickly scanning the documents strewn on the desk of his superior.

"Yes, Barton?"

"Sir, We found her"

"You're a sucker for cheekbones." Laura shook her head at Ellie's predictable 'type'.

"I can't help myself!" Ellie laughed as they exited the cinema.

"Just give you a bad boy with cheekbones you could cut your hand on and you're just away aren't you?"

"Pretty much, my friend, pretty much". Ellie replied as Laura unlocked her car and they got in.

"I enjoyed tonight" Ellie smiled as she turned to look at her friend, how many more times like this with you will I have? Ellie pushed the unpleasant thought away,

"Me too", Laura smiled back, starting the engine.

It was only when Laura screamed that Ellie realised they had pulled her out of the car. Watching her friend struggle, Ellie felt rooted to the chair for a second, before clawing her way out of the passenger door in a panic and running to her friends aid.

"LET GO OF ME! YOU FUCKING..." Laura's voice was cut short as a gloved hand covered her mouth. Ellie felt a pair of strong arms grab her from behind and lift her until her legs thrashed around a good few feet from the ground.

"LET GO OF HER! LEAVE HER ALONE YOU BASTARD!" Ellie let rip with a tirade of curses and oaths, trying to reach her friend, whose eyes were wide and frightened. She twisted and turned violently, trying and failing to get some sort of leverage against the strong man that held her in place.

"Shhhh... Sssshhhhhhhhh" The man soothed, making her more frantic, I'm so sorry, I'm so very sorry Laura, if she could just get a bit of space, if she could just maneuver a little more, she could get to Laura and save her.

"You're just gonna hurt yourself if you keep struggling... You're just gonna..." The man's voice came again, cutting off abruptedly as he felt some of her lower ribs cracking under his pressure. She didn't seem to mind though, squirming all the more furiously now with the little leeway this had afforded her. Inhaling sharply, she managed to wriggle free, her knees hit the gravel of the car park as she fell to the floor, not bothering to get to her feet, Ellie scrambled to get to Laura's side. Laura managed to pull her mouth free for a second and pointed wildly behind Ellie, she screamed

"LOOK OUT!"

Ellie become acutely aware of the silence that had descended. She turned to face whatever was behind her, a man, tall and muscular, pointing a wickedly sharp looking arrow at her, about ten to fifteen feet away. Ellie went to take a step forward, the man pulled back the string on his bow, a determined and grim look on his face. Ellie stopped, taking the hint.

"Miss Gray, I have been sent to invite you to meet with Nick Fury, of SHIELD"

"SHIELD? What the fuck is SHIELD?"

"Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, Mr Fury would just like to talk to you, if you come quietly now, I promise no harm will come to your friend."

"Shouldn't that be, no harm will come to me?" Ellie inquired, her eyes fixed on the arrow, ready to place herself between it and Laura. The archer smiled at Ellie knowingly.

"Miss Gray, I think we both know threatening you with death is a little redundant."

Ellie's countenance faltered. Laura couldn't know what she was, she couldn't ever know. Ellie was a friend that would disappear without a trace, leaving Laura with years of good memories, not leave Laura with questions she could never understand or answer.

"Ellie? Ellie what does he mean?" Laura's voice broke Ellie's train of thought and she looked up at the archer, hoping he wouldn't say much more.

"Nothing Laura, there has obviously been a mistake," Ellie didn't look back at her friend but heard her take a breath to argue this, not wishing to have the conversation now, not like this, Ellie continued to fix the archer with a glare.

"I'll come with you, Mr..."

"Agent Clint Barton"

"...Barton, but only if you let my friend go"

"Certainly", Clint Barton lowered his bow and made a quick gesture with his head. Ellie heard the scuffling sounds of Laura being pushed into her car, as Barton made his way over to a sleek black Mercedes, opening the back door and stepping aside he nodded curtly towards Ellie

"Shall we?"

The rain from earlier that evening made Ellie's short leather jacket squeak against the leather seats of the car. Clint Barton sat next to her, his bow occupying the other seat. Ellie looked ahead, keeping her eyes on the headrest of the passenger seat. Clint cleared his throat and Ellie could feel his eyes flick onto her every now and then, making sure she wasn't about to make any sudden movements.

"Would you like something to drink?" he asked, after what seemed like hours of travelling. Ellie's throat felt gritty and dry but she refused.

"No. It's probably poisoned" she answered, with a sideways glance at her travelling companion. A ghost of a smirk made Clint's features suddenly soften, making him appear friendly and affable, instead of his seemingly default grim scowl.

"Miss Gray, if we wanted to kill you, we would... actually, I don't know what we would do" he finished, shaking his head a little.

"I don't know either, is that what this is all about?"

"Your talents have been, noted." Clint replied, leaning away from her a little so he could evaluate her better. She was damn short, wearing a black leather jacket and a short black skirt, her eyes were the most curious aspect of her appearance. Without looking into them, he would have assumed the girl was in her late teens or early twenties, but her eyes betrayed her. They were a very very light brown, almost yellow in colour. They were old, wise, horrifying and fantastic all at the same time. They were sad at the same time as being feverish in their brightness. Her skin too, on closer inspection was frightening. It was almost too smooth, like a piece of waxed fruit. Clint turned away from her quickly before continuing.

"Mr Fury was present at your little accident last year, the incident in..."

"I know where you mean." Ellie cut him off mid sentence. She closed her eyes and turned her head towards the window, watching the city passing by.

"I've always been so careful..." she continued, eyes still closed. Her voice was barely above a whisper, so quiet that Clint wasn't even sure if her words were meant for him at all. He turned back to her, in time to see her quickly swipe at her eyes with the cuff of her coat.

"...It wasn't like I asked that pile of crap to fall on me. I didn't ask to get squished"

"And I'm sure you didn't mean Mr Fury to see you trying to flee the scene either, but the fact is he did. You have a very interesting and special skill, all Mr Fury and SHIELD is interested in is helping you to reach your full potential with that skill" Clint reeled off his speech, noticing her eyes studying his face, as if she was looking for a sign that he was being untruthful.

"Helping me in the way that I'm going to get needles stuck in me and thrown in a cage?" Ellie quickly relived a particularly nasty memory, Bedlam Asylum... not again.

"I'm sure that won't be the case" Clint replied. Focusing his gaze out the window for the remainder of the journey.