Olivia didn't know how long she had been driving, nor did she really care. Her arms had begun to hurt some time ago from where she had locked her arms whilst clutching the steering wheel. Her shoulders had hunched so much that they touched her jaw. Her hands were numb from where the cold wind had blown against them relentlessly.

Where the hood of her car was, now resided a mess of metal. The windscreen had now disappeared and there was a huge dent in the car where it once was. The passenger side door had now been torn off, and the seat crumpled in on itself, which was now leaning against her side. She didn't know how bad the back of the car was, nor did she care to look at that point. She knew the car would be useless in normal situations, and it was only a matter of time before the car battery died.

Christ, she didn't know where she was, she had been following the desert road for a couple of hours now and there was still no sign of life. She certainly didn't expect to be home in the next hour, for the only mode of transport out of the cave seemed to be plane or helicopter. Was she even in America anymore?

Her thoughts, and prayers, were answered when she noticed the low glow of streetlights on the near horizon. She exhaled deeply and slammed her foot down on the accelerator. As she approached the hill that obscured her view of the town, she couldn't help but think what had happened, and how everything had happened. Was there a bomb in the cave? How many people died? Who died?

It only took a couple of minutes to reach the outskirts of the small rural town, the low glow of the street lights made the surrounding objects and buildings look beautiful, illuminated with a dull peach light. She slowed down so that she travelled inconspicuously. Well, as inconspicuous as someone could be when they are driving in a ruined military vehicle, looking very un-military like herself.

She caught the eyes of nearly everyone walking through the streets, with many mouths gaping, and soon realised that she had to get off the streets and out of the car. She turned into the nearest alleyway, driving until she was in a small dark space behind some houses.

Switching off the engine, the car made a loud spluttering sound before sagging slightly. She patted the car lightly before relaxing her arms. Then, she quickly noticed the immense pain in her right side, which exploded from her hip right to the top of her ribs. She bit back a scream and looked down at herself. The passenger seat had not only crumpled, but a large, jagged piece of metal from the hood of the car had now pierced her side, it didn't pierce deeply, though there was blood spreading through her vest from where it had cut her. She then noticed the small blood trails running down her arms and hands, where the windshield had exploded in front of her.

She clambered out of the car before doubling over, clutching her injured side, the searing white hot pain burst through her whole body, numbing the small itching sensations from the glass cuts. She found it difficult to breath. After a few minutes of pulling herself together, she limped towards the back of the car, looking in the thankfully undestroyed trunk at the three black boxes, two of which were dented immensely, the back of the car actually slumped towards the ground, probably from the force of the falling rocks.

The surviving box held the few personal belongings she had when she was kidnapped. Her purse, phone, brown handbag and Ray Ban sunglasses. Why they had to confiscate her glasses was beyond her. She pulled the other boxes towards her with as much strength as she could exert, which turned out wasn't much. She resorted to standing on her tip-toes to see what was inside the boxes. She opened them and froze immediately. Sitting quite snugly in each case were four large, scary-looking guns. Guns. She had never used nor held a gun in her life. Let alone be in a car with eight of these monstrosities. Curiosity got the better of her and she attempted to lift one out of its case, but with her body clearly screaming at her to stop, she quickly dropped it back into its case.

She reached into the box with her stuff in and pulled everything out. Before scurrying away from the abandoned vehicle and deeper into the neighbourhood. She soon reached the exit of the alleyway, which was a small opening just big enough for one person to walk through. Sitting down against the wall she pulled her phone out and turned it on.

Almost immediately the phone beeped 9 new messages and 5 new voice mails. She rolled her eyes.

She clicked on the button which allowed her to listen to her voice messages and pressed her phone to her ear.

Message received 8.00am: "Hello Miss Holmes, it's Sue from the office. You are running an hour late with no explanation as to why that it. Can you call me back? Thanks."

Sue. The old cranky woman that spoke in a screechy voice, viewing herself very highly above everyone else that she comes into contact with.

Message received 10.30am: "Miss Holmes, Sue here. You have yet to phone; an unauthorised absence will do badly in your favour. You need to call me ASAP."

Message received 5.00pm: "Miss Holmes, Sue again. You better have a very good explanation from your absence today. Come see me as soon as you get in tomorrow."

Message received 9.14am: "Olivia, you are yet again late for work. You better not make a habit out of this. Unacceptable."

Message received 12.00pm: "Hello Miss Holmes, its Pepper Potts, Tony Stark's assistant. Now Sue from the office just called to say you haven't phoned in about yesterday, and have not shown up to work again today. Here at Stark Industries we take unauthorised absences very seriously. I would appreciate it if you phoned me back. You have missed a lot here. Thanks, Pepper."

Pepper Potts phoned? The Pepper Potts? The one who is on the same level as Stark? She never phones anyone who is unimportant, she never phones anyone who is uninteresting in the eyes of the Supreme Leader himself. Then again, she had never been off work for two days. She didn't think she was important enough to receive a call from Stark's assistant, but maybe she was wrong. Though Stark would never admit it. Never.

She checked her text messages, five were from her friends, two were from Sue, one was from her mother, and the other was from an unknown number. She didn't recognise the number, so moved to delete the message before she read it. But before she did, a name popped up in the review of the text which made her eyebrows rise to her hairline.

"Miss Holmes, come by my office in the morning. We can discuss your idea further. Please miss the awful grey shirt and black trousers combo, too boring. Tony."

Olivia smiled, no grinned widely. Stark actually listened to her. Not that she had given him a choice. Frankly, she was surprised he didn't fire her, she pretty much screamed in his face.

Her head snapped to her left when she heard a small commotion coming from where she had parked her car. She slowly got to her feet and started to walk down the small alley which ran between the houses of the neighbourhood. With every move she made she felt her body get weaker and weaker, and it soon took all of her strength just to place one foot in front of the other. She felt a thick layer of sweat on her face and body, though she felt a little chilly herself.

She heard voices behind her, voices that were telling her to stop, she needed medical attention. She knew that, she wasn't stupid. But she would be damned if she would let them take her again. No, no. She did not want to be a hamster again, it wasn't pleasant.

She sped up, moving her legs a little faster and setting her pace a little wider, she saw another small opening to an alleyway just ten feet away from her. That would provide enough cover for a quick getaway.

She zoned out the voices coming from behind her and concentrated on the slapping of her shoes against the stone pavement, she took deep breaths, in through her nose and out for her mouth. Clutching her side as if it would slide off her body, and she began to run, though both of her arms remained fixed on her ribs.

She heard the elevation of the volume in the people behind her; they began trying to run to catch up with her. Six men in black suits sprinted down the hill and after the seemingly harmless woman. As soon as she turned the corner, they thought they had her. An easy pick up.

But when they turned the corner, she had gone, disappeared. There were no sounds, except a small pull of something, which quickly evaporated. The men stood there, baffled, not fully able to work out where she had got to.

A man with an eye patch strolled down the hill and to the front of the group, his jaw stiffening slightly. He pulled out a radio and held it to his lips.

"Now what in the hell just happened?"


Olivia sat in her bathtub, unable to move as she gently cleaned the large laceration on her ribs with her left hand. She was sat in a bath only a couple of centimetres full of warm water, with the shower spraying down cool water upon her like rain. She was not trained medically, only knowing very basic first aid. The wound wasn't very deep, but it still hurt immensely, especially every time she moved her arm even slightly. She had taken care of the small cuts on her arms, shoulders, neck and chin, not requiring much but a simple antiseptic wipe and some band-aids.

But she was beginning to think fixing herself on her own was an extremely bad idea, judging from the pain escalating from bad to white-hot. She had already taken five aspirins since she got home two hours ago, not that they were helping in the slightest.

Her thoughts drifted back to what she had just experienced. She couldn't believe how utterly insane the whole situation was. No one would believe her even if she begged on her knees for them to. Did she just dream the events that had happened to her in the past day? The over-bearing pain in her side reminded her that she hadn't.

She knew that they had absolutely no chance of catching her, not that she was bragging. It's just disappearing was her thing. She wasn't good at any form of fighting, had no idea how to use a gun, but her speciality was disappearing. Disappearing without a trace, no mess, no fuss. Vanishing into thin air, literally.

When she decided that she had cleaned herself enough, she slowly climbed out of the bathtub and put a bandage around her middle, which would have to do for the time being, before she would decide when it was safe enough to go to the hospital.

As she walked through her bathroom and into her bedroom, she stopped and glanced at the damp patch in the middle of her bedroom floor, cringing physically as she remembered emptying the contents of her stomach ungracefully when she arrived home. She sat on the edge of her bed and twiddled her thumbs, staring out in front of her.

It was still pretty dark outside, three in the morning to be exact, it was way past her bed time. She yawned, the searing adrenaline that was once pumping through her body was now slowly leaving her and fatigue was hitting her at full force. She led back on her bed and sighed deeply, glancing quickly at her mobile resting on the bedside table, she closed her eyes and drifted off into a less-than-peaceful sleep.


The next day she awoke in the same position she fell asleep in, staring up at the intricate swirling white patterns on her ceiling as she had done many times. The sun was shining through her cream curtains, illuminating everything with a warm glow. She almost forgot about everything, too caught up in the peacefulness of the moment. She smiled to herself and she stretched her feet and toes, her legs stretching to their full length, and then moving to stretch her arms above her head. She screamed when the blinding pain spread throughout her whole body, setting every cell in her body on fire, it made her feel sick.

She slowly moved her arms down to cradle her middle, and tried to fight the urge not to cry. Enough was enough. She was going to the doctors.

She slowly, oh so painfully slowly, crawled out of bed and barely managed to get ready and put on some clothes, crying the whole time. Throwing on shorts and her prized oversized NASA sweatshirt, she slipped on her pink flip flops and shuffled to the kitchen, she heated the kettle and looked for coffee and as per usual she was clean out of her precious life drink.

Looking through her cupboards, all she had was a half-used salt box, one tea bag, some tomatoes and a packet of crisps. Living the bachelor life was hard work sometimes. She had to keep up the sad, depressed and lonely appearance. Sighing in exasperation, she grabbed her keys and slid out of the front door.

She slowly walked down the stairs of the apartment building, every step reverberating through her body and knocked painfully into every single one of her ribs, like a pinball. She winced as she walked out to the bottom of her street and to the local shop.

She could feel all eyes on her as she placed random items in her basket, all with one arm. Everything started blurring, to the point where she could no longer see the words on the labels. It was at that point that she knew she had to go home and call someone. Or an ambulance. Or superman. Whoever will listen. She got to the checkout and the man serving her eyed her wearily.

"Are you okay Miss?"

Olivia looked up and smiled as sweetly as she could. "Yes, thank you for asking." Don't talk, just shove all of the shopping in her bag as fast as she could.

"You're bleeding." He pointed at her jumper.

She looked down at herself and saw a thick deep red stain starting to spread slowly across her ribs. Her eyes widened as she thought of an explanation. Think of a good one, think of good one. "Oh, that was my son, he got a cut on his head, and he's resting at home, poor boy." Crap. That was really bad. She was not good at lying.

The man nodded as she paid for her things and left. She nearly ran back, trying to ignore the unwanted stares she was receiving. She sighed loudly in relief as she reached her apartment door. She pushed open the door and dragged her shopping bags along the floor with her.

At that moment the home phone began to ring, causing Olivia to trip over the bags and shuffle to the wall phone in the kitchen. "Hello."

"Miss Holmes, its Pepper Potts."

Olivia swore inwardly as she realized she technically missed three days of work without any contact. "Oh hi Pepper."

"I'm just calling to tell you that you need to come to a meeting in an hour to discuss your absence with me and Mister Stark." Potts sounded annoyed, her voice clipped. She did not like this woman.

Olivia began to slowly unpack everything, the eggs, peppers and butter in the freezer. "Oh, okay. I can explain my absence but I really doubt that you will believe me." Ask. I dare you.

Peanuts and pretzels in the cupboard closest to the fridge. "I'm sure that's not true."

The bread in the…

And then she stopped, every single muscle in her body freezing as her breathing began to speed up. She remembered locking the door, not leaving it open.

She backed up from the kitchen counter and turned towards her door.

"Olivia?" Pepper's voice sounded far away.

Where there was once an empty hallway, eight people in familiar black suits stood pointing their guns at her. She froze, completely unable to move as she looked between all of their faces. She trembled violently.

"Pepper listen to me, I am in danger. I have been locked up and kidnapped by crazy-ass men in black cat suits. They are in my apartment with massive guns and I am going to die. Send people. I don't care if it is the FBI or clowns with balloon guns, I don't care. Just…" Olivia screamed and dropped the phone as a tall, black-haired man shot the phone, exploding it into small pieces.

From in between the mean-looking men aiming their large guns at her, a bald man with an eye-patch stepped into her apartment. He smirked at her, crossing his arms.

"Miss Holmes. I am Nick Fury."

She didn't respond, only frowned at the man.

"You appear to be injured." He gestured to the blood stain on her side. She just stared at him. "If you come with us, we will not hurt you and we will tend to your wounds."

Olivia scoffed. "I am perfectly fine I'll have you know. So…" she grabbed the neck of the wine bottle she had just bought. "Get out of my apartment. Now."

"Now Miss Holmes there is no need…"

"Get out of my house." She screamed at the top of her lungs, hoping that one of her neighbours would hear her. She didn't live in a rough area, but everyone kept to themselves, which was really helpful in situations like this. As soon as she used all of the air in her lungs she groaned, dropping the wine bottle and putting her hands on her sides.

The wine bottle smashed on her floor, the deep purple wine flying everywhere and spraying up the legs of everyone, the glass spread in a six feet circle. God damn it. That Pinot Noir would have been beautiful.

"Miss Holmes. We can do this the hard way, or the easy way." Fury placed his hand inside his cape and grabbed something gun-like.

Olivia glared at him. "Not if you can catch me." She gritted her teeth, preparing herself for what she was going to do. Standing to her full height she took a deep breath.

Pain, a mix of mind-numbing ice cold and searing heat spread through her neck and to every crevice of her body. Her veins sent mini razor blades through her muscles, and they all seized involuntarily, causing her to fall to the floor. Her head bounced off the mahogany floor, dull pain spread through the inside of her skull.

She groaned loudly, unable to move any of her limbs, feeling completely useless. Her vision swam as she stared up at eye patch man as he strode towards her, holding the other end of the taser.

"I cahn belif you jus tase me." She mumbled, unable to cohere any sentences.

"You will be fine Olivia. Trust me."

Trust him? Eye patch man even had the eye patch to symbolize his evilness. She was about to respond when she felt the sharp prick of a needle hit the sensitive skin of her neck.