"Miss Watts?" A light tapping on the door roused me from my slumber, "I'm Agent Coulson, I'm here to escort you to SHIELD headquarters." A very average looking man stood in the doorway to my room, he wore a crisp clean suit, there were two men standing off to the side wearing darker suits, one held a briefcase and the other a duffel bag.
"So I get to leave the hospital already?" I sat up eagerly.
"Well due to the, uh- unusual nature of your recovery, the hospital has deemed you fit to check out," Agent Coulson stood very stiff and straight, very professional.
"Okay..." I paused, "Do I get to pack?"
"Yes, of course but we ask that due to space constraints you only pack one suit case, SHIELD will provide you will anything you might need, so it is encouraged that you only pack things with some sentimental meaning."
"Alright, sure..." I could see the concern in the Agent's eyes, "Sorry, this is all just a bit much to take in, less than 12 hours ago I was a nobody and now I- now, well I don't know who I am..."
"We realize that we are asking a great deal from you but, we think you could turn out to be an invaluable member of SHIELD, that is once we assess your risk factor. If you give us consent for an overall evaluation we can determine whether you are suited to be employed by SHIELD, but for now, we'd like you to come with us."
I hesitated before speaking, hearing this from almost anyone else I might not trust them, but there was something truly noble about Agent Coulson, I decided to give it a try, what did I honestly have to lose. "So what about my accommodations? Should I tell my landlord I'm moving out?"
"That's already been taken care of," he smirked, clearly pleased with the efficiency of it all.
"Well that definitely couldn't have backfired at all," I mumbled sarcastically, "Alright well, I'm pretty sure I don't have anything to wear out of here seeing as my uniform was burned off by some crazy lightning storm, so yeah, bit of a problem..."
"Not a problem at all," Agent Coulson gestured toward the man holding the duffel bag, "SHIELD will provide you with all the clothes you will need and once your, erm, condition has been fully assessed you will be provided with a uniform."
Coulson nodded to the man with the duffel bag and he set it on the chair,
"We'll leave you to get dressed now."
I'd been so overwhelmed I hadn't even gone to the washroom and was just now starting to feel the pressure of my full bladder.
I carefully washed my one bandage-free hand and looked up, coming face to face with myself. I didn't look any different, which was comforting, since I didn't feel any different. I leaned close to the mirror expecting to see at least a couple of scratches or even the shadow of a bruise from the other day, but there was nothing. I looked just I had when I left for work the previous morning, yet so much had happened. Seeing my own reflection almost made me doubt whether it was even real.
However, the bandages draped around me told a different story. My right hand trembled as I moved it towards the end of the wrapping on my left hand. I slowly started to unravel the dressing. Layer after layer revealed more skin and more of the strange scarring that came as a result of being struck by lightening.
The scar itself looked like lightning, it was slightly darker than my natural skin tone and spread up my arm like a tattoo, the asymmetrical and seemingly random pattern greatly resembled tree branches. I had a lightning tree as a permanent reminder of the day my life changed irrevocably because although I might not stay with SHIELD I could tell my life would never go back to the way it was.
Once I had the bandage undone all the way up my arm I pulled my hospital gown off and continued unravelling. My left shoulder must have been where the lightning originated because there was a dark spot right where my neck and shoulder met. The scar disappeared behind me and I twisted to see it in the mirror. It crossed over my upper back and then came across my stomach and carried down my right leg, ending on the top of my foot.
"Woah," I breathed as I took it all in.
Finally dragging my eyes from my reflection I unzipped the duffel bag and pulled out sweat pants and a long sleeve thermal. Both were gray and both covered as much of my scar as I could hope for. There was also a pair of black tennis shoes which were somehow the right size.
I left the bathroom to find Coulson pacing the room talking on his cell phone, in a hushed voice. I cleared my throat, he jumped but quickly recovered and gave me a small smile, "I'll report once I arrive," he hung up.
"All set then?," he moved to take the duffel bag from me and hesitated momentarily as he saw my scars.
"They're weird right?" I said glancing down at my own hand as I held out the bag for him.
"I've seen weirder," Coulson replied truthfully, "Besides everything comes with a price, just be thankful yours was only superficial."
I nodded considering his wise words, if what Fury said was true then I could heal, I would virtually never get hurt again, did this mean I could never die...
That last thought snapped me back to the hallway I was walking down a few paces behind Coulson.
"Alright, so we'll just stop by your house briefly and then be on our way." Coulson said as he held open the back door of a black SUV with tinted windows.
It was when I was finally back in my own home that I started to doubt my decision to go with SHIELD. I hadn't been able to bring myself to pack, then I got an idea, a plan.
"Uh, Agent?" I tapped Coulson's shoulder as I approached where he stood on my front porch.
"Is there anyway we can postpone this?" Coulson just stared at me clearly not understanding. "Look I really appreciate the offer and everything but it's a lot of information to take in at once, I think maybe if we postponed this whole guinea pig thing for a while I might feel better about it. I need to come to terms with this and what it could mean for me..."
There was genuine sympathy in his eyes, he gave a solemn nod, "I'll see what I can do."
I smiled my thanks and returned back into my house to change into some of my own clothes. About twenty minutes later I stepped back out onto the porch and to find Coulson pacing in my driveway once again on the phone.
I still couldn't make out what he was saying but I could tell from his face that it was a heated conversation. Several minutes later he hung up, rubbed his brow in exasperation and ascended my front steps.
"Fury isn't happy with this," my heart sunk, "But, he's agreed to give you a week, and at the end of that week you must be waiting and ready."
"Really? Just like that?"
"No, not just like that, it took a great deal of convincing and you're also going to be under surveillance around the clock."
"So that means...?" I asked sensing that he was implying something when he said this.
"No running," he said bluntly, "You even think about it and I can assure you it will not end well; for anyone."
Taken aback by this calm man's ominous words I just nodded dumbly before he put on his sunglasses and turned away.
"We'll be in touch," he called over his shoulder as he walked back to the car where the two large men from the hospital were waiting.
I called work the next morning and they said I could come in for the lunchtime shift. The diner hadn't sustained much damage during "the storm" which is what everyone had been referring to the incident as.
The kitchen was getting hot so I pulled my hair back with a tie and continued making coffee for the demanding customers.
"Woah what happened to your hair Watts?" Mikey, the fry cook asked as he placed a take out bag in the service window and rang the bell.
"What? What's wrong with it?" my hand flew up in search of stray hairs or lumps in my half-assed ponytail.
"Right there," he pointed to the side of his own head to show where it was, "Your hair's white."
Without a word I walked out from behind the counter and to the staff bathroom, I locked the door behind me before turning to the mirror. Nestled in with my brown hair was a chunk of white-ish gray hair.
How could I have missed that? I wondered as I touched it gingerly.
"It must've been from the lightning…" I said weakly, to Mikey as I returned to my post behind the counter.
"Looks pretty badass if you ask me," Mikey grinned before turingbak to his deep fryer.
Around 2:30 we ran out of coffee filters so I scurried to the back to get some more, leaving a younger less experienced waitress to man the register.
I was bent over picking up the keys to the storage room when I heard a loud crack that made me jump up and smack my head on the door knob.
I cursed holding the back of my head, I pocketed the keys and jogged up to the front. Instead of just bursting out into the diner I peaked through the window in the doors. Two men in ski masks were waving guns, "For Christ's sake," I mumbled.
I turned and quietly started creeping back to the manager's office where the main phone was located along with the safe. Unfortunately I was either too slow, or too loud because only seconds later a man came barrelling through the back door.
He grabbed me by the ponytail and dragged me to the front and threw me on the ground near a family of four had huddled up together on the floor.
"Who else is back there?" He asked in a gruff voice keeping his eyes and his gun trained on me.
"N-no one," I stammered, tears stinging my eyes.
"I swear to God if you called the cops you're dead," he turned from me, clearly having moved on to check his partner. One at the cash register prodding at the new girl who was bawling like a small child, then a third man who I hadn't noticed earlier who was taking wallets from the customers and shoving them in a bag.
Just then I and most likely everyone in the store heard the familiar sound of sirens getting steadily louder.
"You lying bitch!" The one who found me shouted as he pointed the gun at me and pulled the trigger without flinching.
He shot me in the left leg, blood started pooling on my tights, I yelled from the pain and the lights in the store shorted and went out, the security system started ringing it's alarm even though no one tripped it and the music playing over the speakers turned to white noise.
Everyone looked around in confusion and I clutched my leg expecting the pressure I put on it to hurt more but it didn't. I assumed I was in shock until I probed my leg further, it felt like nothing more than poking my leg, no searing white hot pain, no ragged edges of flesh where a speeding bullet had entered my body. It was just a shallow dent which I could feel slowly growing shallower until something round came out of my leg, I held in my hand the bullet that was just inside me.
I was completely unaware of the nearby customers screaming or fussing over me, the hoodlums cursing, the cops on their megaphone. I was baffled by my own body, I must be hallucinating I told myself as I grasped the torn edges of my tights and pulled until I could see most of my thigh.
The skin was bloody but solid and unharmed, I nearly passed out then and there but I remembered the situation at hand and the innocent people caught in the crossfire of this desperate attempt.
The man who shot me was panicking but still supposed to be watching us, his gun was pointed vaguely in our direction but he was very clearly distracted. His accomplices were arguing in hushed voices by the register, their guns hidden where I couldn't see. I considered what might happen if I were to grab the man's gun, his grip would tighten on it the moment mine did, but the other two weren't looking, maybe someone could get away.
I turned to the family of four just behind me, the parents were too busy comforting their crying children to notice our surroundings.
"Hey," the mother looked at me eyes wide as plates, "I'm gonna do something really stupid but it will probably mean some people can get away, as soon I yell 'go' I want you and your family to run as fast as you can to the door, take as many people with you as you can."
She stared at me blankly, her giant eyes glistening with tears she refused to let go of, probably for the sake of her kids.
"Do you understand?" I said a little more roughly than I intended to.
She nodded, taking that as my signal I jumped up once I was sure the gunman was distracted and grabbed the gun where he held it. Naturally he pulled the trigger, I expected this but I didn't move because I also expected my skin to reject this bullet like it had the previous. I did double over in pain but I suppressed my scream because in my peripherals I could see the family and others moving towards the door.
The man yelled but his companions were too late, everyone but myself had already left. In a fit of rage the man pulled off his mask before the other two could stop him and he shot me four, five, six times, the last of which hit me in the side of the head.
I was screaming internally because I didn't even know if I'd heal twice let alone six times, especially in the head. The last thing I saw was the dirty blonde hair of my attacker, his far apart eyes and protruding ears.
