Chapter 3
Vision's attention is divided between what I'm doing and coordinating the Avenger's efforts. They discuss logistics and update their plan as the situation unfolds. I can't take any more of this.
I quietly sneak off to my room and lock the door. I'm too worked up to do anything. Not knowing what to do with myself, I pace back and forth, feeling myself drowning in fear and dread, afraid that I will lose them, too. I can't lose anyone else. I can't.
Pain, I need pain. My first thought is to check my bathroom, rummaging through drawers looking for something that I can use, anything that might work. Every sharp thing has been taken. I growl in frustration then notice the mirror in the bathroom, mocking me again as it reflects how pathetic I am. I hate this mirror.
Thinking for just a moment, I begin looking around the room for some way to break it. The alarm clock is solid enough that it should be able to break the mirror. It works, throwing the clock as hard as I can at the mirror causes the glass to shatter into dozens of pieces-some large, some small. I pick up the perfect piece, the piece that will provide relief.
I hear Vision touch the door knob, I scream, "Go away, now!" A whoosh of…wind maybe, rushes from me outward.
"Jamie, let me in," Vision says politely, yet firm.
I realize at that moment that Vision isn't able to come into my room. Briefly, I wonder why but decide to take advantage of the moment.
I rush to sit down on the floor next to my bed as the thought of Vision being unable to enter my room and holding the piece of mirror offer a feeling of freedom. With that, my body calms like yesterday, an odd calm. My mirror mocks me one last time, showing me my broken reflection, an image of my shattered life. Hatred wells up inside of me. I growl again at the awful image, grip the glass in my right hand and with a loud yell I thrust the mirror toward my wrist.
But just before I make contact, I sense Tony kneeling in front of me. This sensation of being watched of another's fear and sympathy, leaves me feeling unsettled and ashamed. Looking around the room doesn't reveal anything out of place, anything that should cause this feeling inside of me. But it's enough, I drop the glass and curl up, shaking.
Steve frantically pounds on the door. "Jamie, open the door, right now!"
Feeling disconnected and exhausted, I just let go. At that moment the door cracks open as if it was never locked but held shut. Steve hesitantly peeks inside. Then, seeing me on the ground, rushes over. "Jamie, what happened?"
What happened?
Steve notices the glass with streaks of blood along the edges and panics, "Jamie, what did you do? Where are you hurt?" he pleads while looking me over covering each critical area.
Steve places both hands around my arms just below my shoulders, "Jamie, look at me."
What? Steve?
Without an alternative, Steve picks me up and carries me to the infirmary.
Tony contacts Dr. Strange hoping he can help shed some light on how Vision was blocked from entering Jamie's room. After a thorough investigation of the bedroom and bathroom, he didn't notice anything that would have been able to keep Vision out of the room and account for someone changing their mind about suicide.
"We need to take a look back in time," Dr. Strange concludes. "Using the time stone can be dangerous but with the extenuating circumstances I think it's our only option."
Dr. Strange stands back along the wall just inside the bedroom door so he can see the long side of Jamie's bed where Steve found her. Everyone gathers in Jamie's room as if they were a CSI unit, except for Steve who's still with Jamie in the infirmary.
They all watch, amazed, as the day's events begin moving in reverse. First, Jamie drops the glass, then holds the glass by her wrist, breaks the mirror in the bathroom, frantically moves about the room crying and finally locks the door.
Time was then set forward, moving slower than normal time to aid with the investigation. Tony walks around and squats in front of Jamie to get a better view of her behavior. Then as if happening in real time, Jamie looks directly up at him which surprises both Tony and Dr. Strange. Time is promptly paused at this moment.
Bruce ponders, "Can she see Tony?"
"It's not possible for the time stone to change the past," Dr. Strange explains and resets time back to the present.
He remains quiet for a few moments while he thinks about the possibilities.
"I need to talk to the girl."
"Jamie, please talk to me," pleads Steve for the umpteenth time.
I refuse to respond, infuriated with him for interfering and bringing me to the infirmary.
The nurse comments from a desk along the far wall, "Sorry, Steve, she was given the highest dose of sedative that her body could tolerate, she's going to be asleep for several hours maybe even a full day.
Confused, Steve retorts, "But she's still awake."
The nurse comes over quickly, to examine me. "That's odd." The nurse skillfully checks the IV bag and the medication, "Hmm, everything looks ok."
Steve askes, "What is it, what's going on?"
"It's not possible that she's still awake. The medication should have gone into effect over an hour ago. Jamie?"
The nurse's question is met with my annoyed gaze and then me turning my head away. Since I hurt myself, my arms are strapped to the bed which only allows me to rest on my back. The forceful motion of turning away from the nurse causes my hand to bump up against the railing, making me wince. The pain medication I was given before then stitched up my hand must be wearing off.
"Jamie, please talk to me," Steve pleads again.
Fuming, I turn to glare at him but my gaze is met with sadness and fear in his eyes that immediately cools my anger. "I'm sorry," I whisper knowing that I caused him pain.
Steve lets out a breath that he had been holding while waiting for me to talk.
"Jamie, please talk to me so I can help you. What's been going on?"
Not being able to stand the thought of Steve being upset, I mentally prepare myself by briefly closing my eyes before I begin to talk. "I've been having flashes…memories…like snapshots from that day…my family," my voice cracks just barely speaking.
Steve is listening intently. He reaches for my hand to comfort me but stops before grabbing my wounded hand, instead laying his hand on my forearm.
"What happened there?"
My heart is pounding, fear is beginning to overwhelm me. I can't do this.
"Jamie." The soothing sound of Steve saying my name helps to bring me back to the present.
"It's over now. He can't hurt you here. But he can still hurt people out there," Steve says while motioning toward the window. "We really need to know what happened. Talking about it will help the memories lose some of their power over you too."
I don't want anyone else to get hurt. Closing my eyes, I begin to speak aloud the images that pop into my mind.
"I saw an odd man, dressed in all-black, wearing suit and hat. He kept his head at an angle so I couldn't actually see his face. He looked almost cartoonish." I shudder as I recall the image of the mysterious murderer.
"He walked up to people who were just enjoying the nice weather and…" I try to calm myself but fail, "… he, he told them to k-k-kill people and they l-l-listened!" Panic raises up in me, I clench my fists together.
"Jamie, stop!"
Steve swiftly, but gently, opens up the fingers on my right hand revealing fresh blood.
"He was so calm and so was everyone else, like I was the only one who noticed how awful this person was," I pause and shake my head, not wanting to think about the next part.
Steve, keeping one hand under my injured palm, touches my shoulder with his other hand to encourage and comfort me. "I know it's hard but it's important that we know what happened. This man has been killing people; he needs to be stopped."
My words play in my mind first before sharing them as I consider the possible damage that speaking them aloud may have. "He…he looked directly at me," my voice sounding strained. "He lifted his head just a bit so I could see him…s-s-smiling." My stomach feels sick. "He told me to," I swallow hard, trying but failing to control my breathing, "…to kill my sister. I immediately felt a sharp pain in my forehead," I say, rubbing my brow as I remember the pain. "There was a loud explosion; everything went dark."
I pause for a moment, allowing the memory to fade; however, my body continues to tremble as I reflect on the drastic changes that this man caused. "Everything is still dark, like I'm living inside of a shadow. That day in the park, it was so beautiful, it was warm, the sun was shining. But now…now, I can't escape the shadow from that sun."
Steve sits quietly while I talk, the weight of my story bearing down on him hard.
"I barely recall Tony picking me up and flying. Next thing I remember is waking up in the hospital. The social worker came to tell me my family was dead. But, I already knew, I felt it."
"Thanks, Jamie. You are very brave. I know that was hard for you to talk about, you did great," Steve reassures me.
The other Avengers enter the room with another oddly dressed man, his unusual appearance is alarming. "Jamie this is Dr. Stephen Strange," Steve introduces us seeing the fear in my eyes.
"Another doctor, why?"
Dr. Strange answered for them, "I am a medical doctor but more recently I have been studying the mystical arts. I want to ask you some questions about what happened earlier today."
Surprised, I say, "Really! I don't understand, what does the mystical arts have to do with me?"
"I don't know yet that's what I'm here to find out," he clarifies.
Furious that my guardians brought this weird man here to ask me questions, I attempt to cross my arms but embarrassingly the restraints keep me from moving much. A surge of anger remains barely contained just beneath the surface as the shame of my position grips me.
Dr. Strange inquires, "What exactly happened while you were in your room earlier?"
Not realizing that everyone had just watched my entire evening in rewind and fast-forward, I try to avoid the questioning, allowing the anger to emerge. "Why do you even care? I don't know who you are and I don't want to know. Mystical arts...," I seethe with contempt, "...whatever that is, sounds made up."
Tony chuckles and slaps Dr. Strange on the shoulder, "The kid's got a point, good luck with that."
"Yes, well, back to the task at hand. I haven't heard of anyone being aware of the effects of the time stone before."
I'm so confused. "What do you mean, what is a time stone and what does this time stone thingy have to do with me?"
Annoyed, Dr. Strange explains, "The time stone can be used to rewind and fast-forward time which we needed in order to investigate what happened in your room."
"Wait," I murmur horrified as the blood drains from my face, "…you all saw that?" I look around at them briefly noticing Bruce quickly look down and away when my gaze meets his. I'm not sure who's more embarrassed, me or Bruce. At least he has the decency to know spying is wrong. I feel so vulnerable and violated. They've seen me so messed up.
Dr. Strange continues, "I don't really care about any part except when you paused and looked around the room right before you let go of the broken mirror."
I was taken aback with his brash confrontation and apparent disregard for my feelings. Tears stinging my eyes.
Steve looks at me, placing his hand on my shoulder to reassure me, "Please Jamie, this is important."
I hesitate for a moment considering everything that he said, but before I have a chance to speak, Dr. Strange interjects, "I don't have all day."
My anger is no longer contained. I firmly snarl, "Well I do. Actually, I have lots of time. I am strapped to this damn bed. So, I'm not going anywhere and from my perspective, you are the one who needs something from me."
Following a brief look of shock, Dr Strange smiles, "I like this girl."
His response helps me to relax. I recount the specific part of the evening in my mind, "I felt like I was being watched, that Tony was directly in front of me, but I didn't actually see anyone."
"You shouldn't have been aware of Tony watching or our presence in the room, because we were watching events that already happened, and yet you seemed to know."
"Sorry to disappoint," I fume, thick with sarcasm.
Dr. Strange continues without acknowledging my last jab. "Are you aware that Vision was unable to enter your room?"
His question takes me off guard, "Um…yeah, I did. I thought he could move through walls and stuff but he didn't come in."
"That's right, I can, but there was something like a forcefield surrounding your room. I wasn't able to penetrate it," recalled Vision.
Dr. Strange thought for a moment before disclosing his assessment, "I think you have some control over your mind, like a forcefield, that you can move outward to protect yourself when you feel threatened and you may be clairvoyant."
My shock turns to humor, "What? That's crazy."
Disregarding my opinion, Dr. Strange asks, "I would like to run some tests to figure out what happened."
"What kind of tests," fear evident in my voice.
"I want to see what happens when I try to access your memories."
I gasp, look over at Steve, who gives a slight nod. I need to feel like I have some control, some way to protect myself, "I'll do it if the straps are removed."
The nurse starts to interject but Steve interrupts, "Please, I will take complete responsibility."
The nurse throws her hands up in the air in disgust then turns and walks away. I smile as Steve unhooks the straps.
Dr. Strange tries to prepare me by explaining what will be happening, "Close your eyes. I'm going to do a brief spell that should open your mind so we can project your thoughts."
"What, no way!"
Steve, holding one of the straps says, "So you prefer the straps?"
I growl but Steve chuckles, yes, he had me on that one.
"Will you have access to all of my thoughts?" I ask, looking down feeling ashamed.
"Well, yes, but I will hone in on one benign event, perhaps breakfast."
"No! No, not breakfast," I say much quicker than I should have, "...not any time over the past month, ok?" I try to lighten the mood, "Maybe a school day or something where very little thought is needed."
Everyone smiles. "Fine, I will look for a school day from a year ago."
I have one last question, "Will it hurt?"
Dr. Strange rolls his eyes, "No."
I take a deep breath.
"Ready?"
"Ready," I reluctantly agree as I try to control the panic brewing just beneath the surface.
I close my eyes awaiting Dr. Strange's assault to begin. A surge of pain shoots through my forehead, then everything goes dark. I wake to see Steve holding me up with wild eyes checking for signs that I'm ok. The room looks like a tornado hit it.
"What happened?" The alarm noticeable in my voice.
Dr. Strange looks at me as if trying to solve a complex puzzle. "You seem to have impressive control over your mind, you can control what you let in and out."
"Um, ok", I said not sure if he answered my question or not, "What does that mean?"
He reframes his explanation, "It means that you were able to thwart my attempts to look into your mind. You were able to not only block but demolish the spell."
I feel the all too familiar panic beginning to rise, nervously I ask, "Really, what happened to the room?"
None of this is making any sense and no one seems to either have answers or be willing to share. I still feel light-headed from whatever Dr. Strange just tried to do but at least it didn't hurt.
I want to get out of here and sleep, I'm so tired. "Steve, can I go back to my room now, please?"
He checks with the nurse who again throws her arms up in the air. "Fine but use a wheelchair. She was given a sedative."
Dr. Strange looks up in surprise to learn that I was so alert following sedation. Perplexed, Dr. Strange leaves without saying much, just something about doing research.
