A/N:
I AM SO SO SORRY I AM SO LATE! I got grounded, and then it was time for midterm exams, and then I was worrying about… other things… and I'm still grounded but got permission to post not one, but three chapters. This one, the epilogue, and the prologue and chapter one for the next one.
And this is the last chapter of this part of the series. Let me just say that I am thrilled with the response to it.
The next part will be Paige in Agents of SHIELD Season 1, and will be located in the Agents of SHIELD fandom. You can also check out my profile to find it. It will be up next Friday.
Shout outs to TatteredAngel42, Uncontrollable-book-nerd, weathergirl1248, Rubi Yuki and Aurora for reading and reviewing. Thanks for sticking through with this!
Disclaimer:
I don't own anything you might recognize from the Marvel Universe, guys. It hasn't changed.
Three Years Later"Again," Clint ordered. We were in one of the many gyms aboard the Hellicarrier, where we spent most evenings. I had started to loose my accent some, but I knew it would take at least two more years for it to fully go away. My hair was tied back into a knot, sweat dripping down my forehead.
"Clint," I moaned. "I'm so tired! I need a break." We'd been going at it for about two and a half hours now.
"A real enemy won't give you a break, Paige," Clint warned.
"Believe me," I muttered under my breath, flashes of New York coming back. "I know they won't." With a flick of my wrist, the end of my whip curled around the blade of Clint's knife, and with one sharp yank, the object clattered to the floor, far out of his reach. With another flick, the whip curled around his ankle, and I pulled it out from under him. He fell on his back with a grunt, and in the next minute I had his hands tangles together with my whip and my (his) knife against his neck.
"Smart," was all he said. "All right, that's enough for tonight." I let him go, sliding the knife back into his hand and coiling up the whip, placing it on its hook on my belt.
"About bloody time," I complained. "It's nearly midnight. I'm already a Level Six." In just three years, I had advanced from a Level Zero (there wasn't really such a thing) to a Level Six. I was diligent. That, and I had two of the best SOs I could ever ask for. Not just anybody gets trained by Hawkeye and the Black Widow.
As we sat on the bench, wiping the sweat off with towels and drinking water, Clint looked over at me and sighed. "I wish you could have met Phil Coulson. He was a great man. And an even better friend."
"He sounds like I would have liked him," I said, smiling at the man in front of me sadly. I knew Clint and Natasha missed him a lot, even after three years and I couldn't blame them one bit.
"I know he would have liked you, Paige." Clint stared off into the distance for a moment, and then cleared his throat. "You'd better get back to your bunk and get some sleep. You have school in the morning." I groaned out in disgust. I was about to start my senior year online tomorrow. My life had been hectic over the past three years. I had to make my own path, along with balancing school and training and missions. But it was worth it.
"You go on ahead. I can make it to my bunk on my own," I said. Clint gave me a very long, hard look.
"You're up to something," he accused.
"Guilty," I admitted. "I promise I'm not going to get myself in trouble this time. Just go to bed, Clint."
He stared straight into my eyes. "You get into trouble, I'm going to toss you off this Hellicarrier. While flying."
"Yes sir, Agent Barton SO, sir!" I mock-saluted him. He rolled his eyes, used to my antics by now, and gave me a hug, pressing his lips to my forehead. He had kind of become the father/brother figure in my life, with Natasha as my mum/sister. After Clint left, I threw my towel and water bottle into my bag, slinging the strap over my shoulder and making my way to Fury's office. I had a bone to pick with the Director of SHIELD.
-:-
I knocked on the solid oak door twice and waited for permission to enter. When I did. Fury was standing behind his desk, back to me, looking out his window. He turned around to face me when I walked forward, stopping right at the edge of his desk.
"Agent Willows," he acknowledged me. "What can I help you with?"
"I want to meet Agent Coulson." Simple as that.
"Agent Phil Coulson is dead. He was killed during the attack in the Hellicarrier, back at New York, Agent," Fury said, and I knew he was lying. Even without my training on how to pick up on lies, I knew he was lying. Though, not may agents here actually know the future. Scratch that, only one does, and that's me. So, yeah, I knew he was lying.
"I know this information is above my paygrade," I said. "I know I'm not a Level Seven. But I also know that you're lying. I know for a fact that Phil Coulson is still alive, and that you brought him back from the dead under the utmost secrecy. And that you lied to him about it." I leaned in closer and said lowly, "I know about project TAHITI."
"And may I ask how you have come by this information?" Fury asked. Sure he could ask. Doesn't mean I was going to tell him what he wanted to hear.
"I have my resources. And don't worry, none of your agents spilled anything, nor have I hacked in to find it. I know the same way I know everything else. So let's start this thing over. I want to meet Agent Coulson." Even after three years, I hadn't told them about the movies. I wasn't planning on ever telling them, either. It was dangerous. I had to let fate run its course. They had eventually just accepted that fact, and didn't ask when I said something cryptic.
We stared at each other for a minute.
"Very well. Your flight leaves tomorrow. Come to my office for further instructions tomorrow. You are now being given a temporary Level Eight access."
I nodded. "Thank you, sir." I turned around and made for the door. Just as I put my hand on the doorknob, Fury called out,
"And Agent Willows?" I looked over my shoulder at him. "I don't need to tell you that this information is top secret. The other Avengers are not to ever get wind of this, or there will be consequences."
"Yes, sir," I said. After a moment's hesitation, I continued, "You know you're going to have to tell them eventually." The Director didn't reply. "If I were you, I'd do it sooner rather than later, because even in an agency this big, secrets like this can't stay hidden forever."
"Dually noted, Agent Willows." That was my cue to leave. Even Fury had started taking into account my advice, because I was usually (always) turned out to be right with stuff like this. I nodded and left, shutting the door behind me.
As I made my way back to my bunk, I ran into a bunch of Junior Agents. The parted for me, and started whispering, talking about New York and a different dimension as though I couldn't hear them. It used to bother me before, but now I just ignored it, because they weren't doing anything but speculating, which wasn't anything other than I had been doing since I got here,
"Excuse me," one said, standing out in front of me slightly, but not enough to block my path. Smart of him. I stopped and listened. "Are you Whiplash? The one who came from a different universe and fought in the Battle at New York when you were fourteen?"
"I am," I confirmed. "Although my real name is Paige Willows. And you are?"
"Michael Waldrup," he replied. "It's an honor to meet you, ma'am." I smiled and shook his hand. He was older than me, but I was still his superior. That had taken quite a bit of time to get used to. Because of my level, which I had worked so hard to earn. I was qualified for Level Seven, which was where the rest of the Avengers were, but I knew I wouldn't achieve it until I was eighteen. I turn seventeen in six days, and then have to wait for another year. In all honesty, it wasn't that bad of a wait.
"It's nice to meet you too," I said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to be going now. Busy day tomorrow."
"Of course," Michael said, stepping out of my way. I nodded at them all, said goodnight, and continued on to my bunk. After typing in my passcode, the door slid open to reveal my quarters. The main room had a couch, a coffee table, a lamp, and a TV. There was also a small kitchen through the door on the right, and my bedroom was the door straight ahead. A bathroom was connected to my bedroom. I dropped my bag on the ground, kicking my boots off and sighed. Whoever though heeled combat boots were the way to go for women's SHIELD uniforms should be shot. I stripped out of my sweaty clothes, placing my various weapons on the coffee table and sending my clothes and workout towel down the laundry chute. I moved into my bedroom and pulled on a pair of sweats and a black tank top with the familiar eagle logo on them, letting my hair loose and brushing it out. I gently fingered the strand that was braided before moving back out to put my bags and weapons away and then finally collapsing onto my bed. Normally, I would take a shower, but it was late and I just wasn't going to make it that far tonight.
I rolled over and sighed, quickly giving in to the inky blackness that was sleep.
My dreams consisted of flashes of New York, training, and things from the past and future. I saw my mum and brother, my dad in chains, Loki's mischievous green eyes before he turned darker, and so many other things. This was normal. A side effect of whatever brought me here, I supposed. Suddenly, I was in a road. I vaguely recognized it, although I couldn't quite put my finger on where and why I did. There were abandoned cars, a man with long hair and a metal arm, and Natasha was there, and then there was a click at my feet and an explosion.
And nothing but black.
-:-
Yeah, okay, I know you guys hate cliffhangers. But I do them because I love you! This chapter is short, but the prologue for Agents of SHIELD will be much longer! It's under a different title, in the Agents of SHIELD fandom, so please check it out!
Love,
Angel
