AN: Just a note. The bold and italic means something like an overheard conversation on the phone or the television.

Thank you everyone who has fav/followed and reviewed. You all are my personal crack for the week. I will be updating once a week once I am caught up on what I have written, most likely on Friday's. Please R&R if you could.


Chapter Three- Home

From Someplace in LA:

"Is she being monitored?" he checked, as he sat at his desk wrapping the phone cord around his hand repeatedly. "Affirmative. We sent someone to keep tabs on her two weeks ago. One of our top people. She is still going by the Jessica Smith identity in which we equipped her with. We also set it up so she would be moving into a group home and that is where we will be observing her from." said an unknown voice back. "The person knows not to bring her any harm, right? We cannot raise any suspicion with S.H.I.E.L.D. and anyways, that's my reward, once this ultimately is finished. Don't do anything stupid. Just because you're my second in command doesn't mean I won't kill you on the spot." He continues as he paces back and forth through his office. "It was part of the orders, don't worry. Everything will go off without any problems. The Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. won't know what hit them." "Oh, I'm not worried about that." He smiled as he sat down and reclined in his office chair while handing up the phone. "Not worried at all."


"Jessica, the doctor will see you now." Marilee attempts to whisper but her voice comes across pertly as she dwells by the door of the group room, saving me from our daily afternoon relaxation class. I don't know about most people here but I hate this mandatory group most. We have to listen to waterfalls for an hour which just makes me need to urinate exceedingly bad instead of putting me in a peaceful state of mind.

Plus when we do that progressive muscle crap, I have to take a pill every time they teach that class just so I don't go around punching the walls. I tried to get out of it but Tim thinks I need to learn to relax more. If only he knew that I truly was an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D, then I wouldn't be going through these brainless classes. Now I can get answers on the gap in my memory.

Smiling to Marilee I walk to the Dr. Clancy's office as I struggle to stay calm. I go down the confined hallway to an office next to Timothy's. Knocking lightly on his oak door, I hear "Come in." from inside the rich plush office that is five times in size versus the sardine can that is Timothy's. Sitting down on the raven velvety armchair, I look to Dr. Clancy with hope for answers like he has a key to unlocking my memories from the last three months.

I guess it really pays to go to school the extra couple of years and become a psychiatrist even though Timothy does all the work. This will be the third time I met with him since I've been here. It seems to me, when selecting straws, Timmy boy got the shortest. Why am I so nervous? I want to know why I can't remember what happened. I need to know what happened! Did I go crazy on Maria Hill and get fired? That seems reasonable. Did I take a vacation and go globe-trotting? Ya…ugh no, I never go on vacations. Did I quit S.H.I.E.L.D and join a convent then decide I couldn't shut up long enough to service God and get kicked out of there? FOCUS, Hayden. Ugh I can't wait to get out of this mess so I can get my identity back!

As Dr. Clancy pulls my chart up on his computer, he states "Tim tells me that you have some questions about your lack of memory from sometime in September until you arrived in our emergency room. Is that correct?" He speaks in a soft monotone voice that I have to virtually lean over his desk just to hear him. "Yes" I respond. "I have a theory on that. You had a MRI before you were transferred to the 9th floor. Also, you had various other imaging techniques that showed you did have a slight concussion. Your brain did not show any extensive damage and/or current brain lesions that would typically cause this extensive amount of memory loss. I consulted my colleague in the Neurology department on your cause and he concurs with my findings."

I wait patiently for the information lesson to be over so I can just get to the punch line as the doctor audibly sighed while saying "We agreed that you are suffering from a type of amnesia called psychogenic amnesia. You suffered a traumatic or stressful event in which that event triggered your bipolar psychosis. Now your brain is trying to protect itself and consequently you by blocking out that specific memory and for some reason the last three months." Dr. Clancy smiled sadly as he looked over at me from the computer for the first time since I came into his office. "So, what can I do to fix it then?" I stutter. "There isn't much we can do. There isn't a magic pill that will fix this condition. I am going to refer you to my colleague upon discharge. He can give you a better understanding of what is going on. Just realize you can experience flashbacks, nightmares, and panic attacks when you start to remember again. It will take time but you will get there." He quickly stands and goes to shake my hand.

Ugh, so that was so anti-climatic. Basically, I experienced something horrible and to prevent myself from going completely nutso, my brain is blocking it from myself by not letting me remember 90 days of my life. Grrreat!

"Good luck with everything. I know you will do great at North Winds treatment center. The woman, I think her name is Lucy, will be here soon to bring you over to your new home. You're a smart girl. Everything will come in time." he says as he shakes my hand. Turning around, I leave his office feeling discouraged and disappointed for the first time in weeks with how I am going to get myself out of this mess.


"Welcome to North Winds." I hear my new staff, Lucy stay to me as we pull into the mansion sized rusty-red brick group home. "Feel free to unpack and get settled in. Dinners at 7pm. Either Samantha, another staff here, or myself will bring your keys. You're in the co-ed dorm of the house, room 14. If you follow the stairs all the way to the third floor and go down the hall to your right it will bring you into the correct area. If you have any questions, just come down to the office, which is located on the second floor or ask any other resident. Most people here are friendly. Again, welcome." She continues as we walk through the door and up the first flight of stairs.

As I climb to the third floor, I realize how winded I am since being on the psychiatric floor and the only forum of exercise we partook in was having a code called when we were flipping out on someone or ourselves. I walk into the co-ed dorm and the first thing I notice is the door closest to the wall covered in various stickers of obscenities and a DANGER fart zone sign.

I guess if you don't want anyone in your room you just have to advertise that it smells like ass. Smart, I think I will like this one. Maybe whoever it is can be useful to me.

Looking around the impersonal day room, I try to find which door is mine when I hear footsteps behind me. Tensing up out of habit, I spin around to see a tall pale woman with midnight colored dreadlocks and grey eyes walking towards me. I watch her disappear into the room marked 15 which is located along what appears to the bathroom. Turning to my room, I push open the door and stare at the three drawer dresser, a night stand, and twin sized bed. I'm not a big girl or anything, I'm quite average if not a little skinny but…I'm an adult! Couldn't they at least have sprung for a double or a queen sized mattress? Throwing the few belongings I gained while in the hospital on my kid bed, I turn around looking back towards the door. Deciding to watch television for awhile, I sit in our day room and flip on the flat screen.

Sure, they can spring for a flat screen, but they give us those shitty beds in there. The television is bolted down like someone is going to walk off with a 39 inch TV. Like, no one will notice somebody walking down 3 flights of stairs with it? Figures, things never make sense in this world. At least this couch is comfortable even if it looks like it's from the 1980's. I am all about the comfort any day. Oh good, the news is almost on.

Breaking me from my thoughts, I hear "Do you mind if I sit and watch the news with you?" I look up to see its dreads from the hallway. "Yeah, go ahead." I motion to the matching love seat at an angle from mine. "I'm Layla Jones, your neighbor in this paradise." Seeing we have about 5 minutes to go until the program starts, I decide some casual conversation couldn't hurt, "My name is Hay- I mean Jessica." wincing as I almost blurt out my true identity. Not knowing who I can and can't trust anymore, I weakly smile at this Layla girl as she plops down on the couch. Putting her black knee laced combat boots on the coffee table between us, I watch as she looks me over. Feeling as if I am on a conveyor belt under inspection, I look back to the television screen right as the news starts, grateful for the distraction.

Another cold snap tonight. John what do we expect in terms of the weather?

These temperatures aren't getting any warmer any time soon, but if you're like me you won't mind the foot of snow we have in our forecast. I'll be back at the half hour with our daily readouts and our expert seven-day forecast. Back to you Rick.

Thank you John. Unfortunately, Mary is out sick tonight. In local news, Clearwater's crime is at all time low. People of Clearwater are contributing it to the new mayor and an increase of officer patrols during statistically high crime time periods. The mayor has released this statement-

Snorting at the subject of high crime any place as remote as Clearwater, I look over to Layla who is now sitting on the edge of the love seat engrossed in the news with a look of relief on her face at the crime rate story.

Seriously, I passed a gas station, a fast food joint and one of those 'I sell everything' department stores on the way here from the hospital. Not to mention the five billion acres' of woods not only surrounding this dead-end street but everywhere in this hick town. I miss the noisy, smelly city. I can't wait to get out of here. This is straight out of some horror movie where some blonde chick gets killed because she is too stupid to run out the door and runs up the stairs instead. Wait where did that come from? I so NEED to get away from this country crap.

As I am about to start to go back to watching the news, I hear a jingle of keys in the direction of the hallway. Looking over my shoulder, I see an average looking woman standing there. She has brownish red hair tied tight in a bun while wearing a neon blue blazer and in her hand is 2 keys attached to a key ring that had a plastic 14 on it. "I brought your keys for you, Jessica. My name is Samantha but everyone here calls me Sam." Getting up, I take the keys from her and move to shut my door. "If you need anything, please let me know. I am new here so if you ever need to talk or anything, I'll be right downstairs. I have more free time than most of the other staff right now." She waves and walks stiffly to the door with stickers. She knocks three times and then walks in while saying a soft "Staff". "She's nice, for a staff I mean." I hear Layla say from the couch as she still watches the news. "I got here about the same time she started so we have learned the ropes together. If you need anything you can let me know too." Layla smiles weakly as she focuses back into the television. Sitting back down to finish the news, I nod.

In world news, the Avengers came to the rescue yet again when a man with unknown powers woke up confused and disoriented. He decided to set fire to a small town in upstate New York yesterday morning. Captain American has this message from our correspondent at WXCI.

"The situation in Upstate New York has been handled and there are no casualties.

S.H.I.E.L.D. has set up a call center to prevent this from escalating in the future. If you or someone you love is having difficulty and needs some help, please call 1 555 911 HERO. Thank you."

I wonder who thought of the number, 911 HERO. It's not snaky enough for Tony. It's not basic enough for Steve. Well at least now I have a way out of this mess. I'm going home! It's like that one song by that rocker dude that I can never remember by name.

Now back to John for the weather-

Looking around the living area, I noticed Sam came out of sticker person's door and was watching the news with us from the hallway. Writing a mental note to watch myself around her for how quiet she is, I get up from the couch as Layla turns off the television. "The weatherman never says anything different. Snow in winter, rain in spring, hot in summer, and windy in fall. I could do his job while sleeping and get a nice check in the bank. See you at dinner Jessica? I'm going to take a nap. Maybe later we can chill and get to know each other. Watch a movie or something, k?" Not waiting for an answer, Layla waves as she walks into her room and shuts the door. Smiling like an idiot, I walk over to my door as realize that home doesn't seem so far away.

SOB, that Sam chick pulled a Houdini again. Yep, I am defiantly keeping my eyes peeled to that one. At least until I get a hold of my team. Then I'm out of here.

I'm going home, to a place where I belong…


Review Responses

Hikiri: Shennie? I can dig it. Oh i looooove psych hospitals...rolls eyes. lol. Glad i nailed the experence. Thanks for the review.

Cinderfire: No, she's not crazy. As the story progresses it will reviel why no one was sent. If some random person just walked up to you and said you worked for a secret goverenment organization and have superpowers, wouldn't you think something was a little off with them? Plus the doctor was an ass. Thanks for the review. :)