So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
You can also find this story on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN under the same title and pen name along with a place to post suggestions.
Don't forget to check out the Photobucket album listed on my profile page too.
DAY TWO
CHAPTER TEN
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
0841 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
NORA
CAPTIVE
I just made a huge mistake. That's my number one observation right now and that's all there is to it!
I don't know what I did wrong exactly, or how I could have done things any better, I just know I didn't do the right thing and I'm in serious trouble!
I had some suspicions of the situation and maybe I should have done something about them sooner. It didn't sound like a good idea though, but the good ideas I did listen to just brought me to a very horrible end.
I was enjoying all the kindness he offered me, but kindness isn't enough to stop me from thinking, it never has been. Especially since I tend to be be suspicious of people's motives when I first met them anyways, and once I calmed down a little I started to do just that again.
He didn't say it himself, but it was implied strongly enough by the circumstance of me simply being here that he, or the people who work for him saved me. I'm sure I'm right when I assume that these people work for him, and not the other way around since I've seen two men dressed for combat, and both have done as he said. Then there's the fact the first even called him sir and saluted him. I don't need any more evidence than that to know he must be the person in charge here.
But while I am very glad toward whoever the individuals were that did save me, the cautious and analytical thought process I picked up being part of S.H.I.E.L.D can't help but come to the question of what they were even doing there to begin with?
I was down, and out of it. I was done for, even if I hadn't been unconscious I was done! My opponent was Clint, I was done from the start! There was no way I was going to win that fight, there was never anything stopping Clint from doing what he wanted to me back there but this man in charge said nothing happened?!
Those words sound so wonderful, and they're exactly what I need to hear, and I want to believe. I do believe them too, to a degree. I'm not saying I don't, but I'm just saying that they were too wonderful, too convenient. Clint was right on top of me, he had already started... To stop him in time, they must have been right there too!
What would they be doing there at my house to save me, and why would they even know to come since they haven't owned up to being S.H.I.E.L.D? I'm not that important.
I know it's a horrible thing to think about yourself, but it's true that I'm not. In the grand machine that is S.H.I.E.L.D I'm not very important at all. Sure I have the rank of an agent, but at level one I'm the person who deals with unwanted paperwork, messes, and making coffee. While they wouldn't just abandon me is a lost cause, there would always be higher priorities than me that would come first and I accepted that.
I shouldn't be worth the number of lives it would cost to take him down and there's no way they took me from that 'Clint' without casualties. Sure, they would try to rescue me from him, but if I died in the process it would be an acceptable loss, after all, they would even kill 'Clint' if became truly necessary and he is one of their most valuable agents!
I really believed that thought to be a fact, right up until my eyes proved me wrong.
He was calling in men, and they came in. Not a single man, but 'men', plural! I wanted to try and shut them out somehow, to barricade the door with a chair, or even my shoulder in my desperation. But to do that I would have had to move closer to the man who held it open for them, and I knew if I did he would undoubtedly put his hands back on me, so my traitorous body just made the decision for me.
First there was the soldier that had dragged the other one out earlier, he came in so quickly that he was probably just right outside when he was called.
Then there was another form entering through the archway, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat when enough of him had entered for me to identify. I knew who it was, I knew those clothes! Grey khakis and brown leather shoes. A plaid button up and a tie. I saw these things earlier today if it's even still the same day. I left him wearing those things, but I didn't leave him with those eyes!
It was 'Erik' but it wasn't Erik because he had the same eyes as 'Clint'! That they were smiling and seemed happy to see me only broke my heart even more, right before it froze to death.
If I wasn't sure it wasn't him anymore, I only had to look at the eyes of the third person who walked in to compare them. Clint was here, Clint was alive, and 'Clint' was smirking at me! They didn't save me from him! They recruited him and took me is a prize!
When the first hand touched me I fought against it hard! I kicked and clawed and screamed! I didn't care that it wasn't 'Clint's' hands trying to wrestle me under control. I didn't care that the man in charge stopped 'Clint' when he started to advance on me to do it himself, and told the other soldier to restrain me instead.
I didn't care when 'Erik' tried to reassure me it wouldn't hurt if I relaxed as he prepared a needle he intended to put in my skin! I just cried and begged him to help me, he was supposed to be my friend, why wouldn't he help me?! Then I cried more when he told me not to worry, that they were going to make everything better.
Better? I was trapped in a room with a man that I always thought would protect me from everything and instead he came to my home and covered me in wounds. A stranger who seemed to want nothing more the to help me, then knowingly gave an order that to me might is well have been torture. Another man who was set on unsympathetically holding me still because he was told too. All of this they do to me so 'Erik' could force one needle after another into my skin!
This was his version of better. This was my version of Hell, and if I could just wake up from this nightmare, I would run, and run, and run, and I'd never look back! I'd run until me shoes filled with blood or my legs gave out and left me crippled, in which case I'd start to crawl.
But, of course, even trapped in the terror of this moment I knew that was a stupid hope. Hell is a place that never lets anything go once it has it in its grasp, why would it treat me any differently?
I, who I already established is someone about is important is the office gopher could think of no reason for me to be treated so special. But then again, I couldn't think of any reason for me to be here at all, held prisoner by a man I'd never met as my friends looked on and helped him?! There was no answer or logic for any of it, not even to the repetitive but simple 'why?' in my head.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
0847 HOURS
SUBTERRANEAN BUNKER
LOCATION UNKNOWN
?
MERCENARY
If I was completely honest with myself about it, and I am, the whole affair has left me with a disgusting taste in my mouth. Order or not, the fact that I followed it without question or not too, I just held down a woman as she screamed and begged me to have mercy on her, so a man, who she apparently knew, could shove a couple of needles she didn't want in her arm, and drug her, all the while is another man she also knew prior to all this looked on with a smirk.
I still have no idea who this woman is to this 'Loki' fellow, but one thing I'm sure of is her life is pretty messed up if this is the kind of thing her 'friends' do to her.
She used that word in her begging desperation, and she even called that smirking bastard of an agent her 'brother'!
I know that emotional investment is a very bad idea on any job, but if that's true that they are some kind of family, I am more than willing to hate let myself hate that S.H.I.E.L.D lackey a little.
I may be a mercenary, and because of that I can't judge him on the fact that I've done some pretty horrible things myself when under orders, even to women if that was what the order was. But as a regular man I can and will judge the hell out of him! He wasn't acting under orders if the rumor is true and that woman came in here bloody and looked at him with a kind of fear I'd rather not be able to recognize.
I don't need to hear an explanation for that. You don't do that to a woman, and you sure as hell don't do it one who calls you that!
I also know, if I was given a choice I wouldn't even be having these thoughts, but it's kind of hard not to think about them when you're looking at their source.
After they filled her with painkillers they added sedatives so she would calm down, something she wouldn't have needed if she didn't have four men in a room forcefully drugging her in the first place, then the boss sent the other two out and told me my job from now on was to guard her.
I said "Yes sir" to the order without hesitation, while in my head all I could think was a never-ending stream of shit's because I can't think of a single way this is going to go well at all for me. I really hope she isn't the kind to wake up screaming.
WEDNESDAY, MAY 2ND 2012
0852 HOURS
SECLUDED CABIN
SANCTUARY
NORA
THE PICTURE OF CONTENTMENT
My alarm was going off which was strange because I don't remember setting it, but then again I never do, because its impossible. My alarm is unusual, since it come complete with whiskers and a scratchy little tongue.
Jareth is once again trying his darndest to wake me up, no doubt so I will open the fridge for him, and he can fill that black hole he calls a stomach with the salmon paste he loves so much. He's being particularly persistent about it too today, which makes it very hard for me to resist the urge his tickling attention creates and continue to pretend I'm still asleep, but very worth the amusement it brings me.
My act finally fails as I make the mistake of trying to peek barely past my eyelashes and he notices them flutter. His efforts following that observation triple, and now instead of sniffing and rubbing against my cheek he switches to more effective tactics, and starts licking the inner shell of my ear!
"Ah! Okay! Okay! I'm awake, I surrender!" The way I sit up so quickly and try to bat away the sensation lingering from his tongue sends him toppling into the sheets, since he was standing on my shoulder when he launched that love attack on my ear. But he doesn't care. He's just happy he woke his mommy up at last. Once he manages to squirm around and get all his paws under him again he lets me know it, if that adorably loud purring is any indication.
Why'd he wake me up though anyways? That's the question in my mind as I absently rub the last evidence of the sleep out of my eyes. I mean, I know I'm his mama and I always give him everything he wants, but next to his papa I might as well be the female counterpart to Mr. Scrooge.
The answer to that question answers itself though when I notice the unoccupied space of the king sized mattress next to me. There was no papa for Jareth to bug. He must have already gotten up for his early morning run and let me sleep in, which means little mister Jareth here had no choice but to beg for unnecessary treats from me, and it really is unnecessary too.
"I know he gave you something goofball, we both know he always does." He probably doesn't understand the words since he doesn't have the ability to speak English, but he's a smart little kitten nonetheless and knows what tones mean well enough, and he can tell that one might mean no treat for the kitty, which makes him even more adorably desperate.
Those little paws push themselves against my chest as he cranes his neck to look up at me, trying to climb higher and make it easier for me to see him is he starts breaking out into a chatty series of 'maw' with the occasional 'maw maw', and only grow in volume as I start to laugh.
"Ohhhh you..." My hands swooping in to scoop him up catches him a bit by surprise and allows me the opportunity to give his forehead an Eskimo kiss before he can get his bearings back, much to his annoyance. The next thing I feel is the pads of his paws try to push my face away before I consider unleashing round two on him, right before he lets out a sneeze that seems to have snuck up on him given his surprised expression, and makes me break into a fit of laughter yet again.
It leaves him thoroughly embarrassed. In fact I'm sure if he didn't have fur I'd see my little baby blushing from tip to tail. As it is he is hanging limply in my hand and wearing one of his adorably pathetic small animal pouts. "You poor, poor little neglected creature."
Hearing me coo at him seems to lift his spirits right back up though, as I can once again feel his purr vibrating through my hand as I pivot around on my butt to rise off the bed, and make a carriage for him with my other arm. That purring sensation triples when my other free hand occupies itself with scratching his under chin.
When he feels me shift from sitting to standing though being in my arm is no longer good enough for my little parrot and he scrambles up to perch on my shoulder, his little claws poking, but impressively not scratching at the skin the wide tank top strap doesn't cover. He's always been so good at that, my little navigator.
Padding my way through the house I actually enjoy the way the cool stone of the floor seeps into my soles and the texture of the carpet feels against my bare feet as I make my way toward the kitchen, my passenger making sure with excited little chirps of encouragement that I stay on course and don't get lost somehow in the long rectangle that is this rustic cottage.
I love this property. It's like something straight out of one of those 'I'll never afford this house' magazines. Its ten acres of undisturbed wilderness, dominated by pines and birch trees overlooking a decently sized lake with a view of the rolling mountain range beyond, and on days like today, a quick glance out the window confirming it, there is a blanket of fog that rolls across the lake and crawls its way up to our doorstep giving the landscape the illusion that the house is built on clouds!
The cottage itself was designed so it blends in right with the environment that surrounds it. Shale stone makes up the part of the floor that isn't carpeted and some of the walls, before mixing artfully with recycled bricks for the hearth of the fireplace, and polished river rocks for the cardinal corners of the cottage and pillars within.
The parts that aren't stone are stripped timber beams and lacquered boards I was told were cut from trees on this very property. There's also treated birch branches that have been used is decorations to really bring the ambiance of the forest inside, with the most notable being the ones framing the padded headboard of our bed and the night tables on either side.
It's really a marvelous building, and I love to spend time in its walls, but the same can just is easily be said of the yard. There's a small stone patio that also acts as the front porch despite its lack of a roof, with purple hostas, gladiolus, and yellow wildflowers growing on either side of the stone circumference, and a little iron and wood patio dining set that I make much use of in the warmer seasons.
My favorite part of the scene though, are the two sapling fruit trees standing like flanking sentries on the sides of the decorated paver stone path.
Those didn't come with the property, but one day, not even a week after we moved in I came home laden with paper bags full of treats from the farmers market to find him kneeling in the dirt and patting down the last bit of uneven soil before turning his face to me with a smirk on his smudged cheeks.
It was a gift that he said I couldn't turn down becuase they were already planted, and all I had to do to pay him back was make a pie with some of those apples I picked up.
I laughed so hard my cheeks hurt and I almost had tears in my eyes. I told him when he took one of the bags from me that he was a 'jerk' for not letting me help with that, but he simply shrugged it of with that charming grin of his is he plucked an apple out of the bag with a bit of a toss and sunk his teeth into it before saying "yeah but I'm your jerk, and you know you love 'em".
He's has always been so good to me like that, through everything we've been through together.
I can't help but muse how lucky I've been to find someone like that as I make myself a cup of the hot coffee he left waiting for me, yet another example of how true that statement of the way he treats me is.
He does all these things, and he never expects any sort of compensation for them, even if I insist on returning the favor. He just does them because that's 'the way a real man treats a lady' as he likes to say. He's never made any demands of me, or pushed me farther than I could go.
He stood by me through all those hard years as I struggled to overcome the biggest obstacle between us, as I realized there was an us, it just had something in the way that made it hard to see. Then once it was gone, he made his one and only demand of me.
He begged me not to say no, because it took him years to find the courage, and he wasn't sure he'd find it again.
He proposed. He wanted to marry me! Me, the girl with who couldn't be touched, who couldn't touch back!
The girl who found the courage to say yes! He was the first person I touched, the first skin I ever felt, really felt. Not some accidental brush in a hallway, but real touching! When it happened I held his hand for a half hour, just amazed at all the different textures and line I could feel in his skin, right down to the scars he thought I shouldn't have to look at and the mazes on his fingers!
I could feel that, and I was so happy, because I'd spent so long imagining what it would be like, and he didn't care that I was crying, because I was laughing and smiling because I could feel him! I can feel him now too.
The sound of the door closing and his boots landing on the floor informed me of his return, just like the soft tap of his feet on the floor is he crosses it and takes a flanking position behind me. I can feel his warmth radiate out off him and reach me a second before the rest of him joins it. The solidness of his bare arms wrapping around my shoulders and pull me gently against his chest into a hug, as he presses a kiss against the shell of my ear. His stubble tickles a little is his long brown hair sways into view for a second.
Then he just leans back and rests his chin on my head as he joins me, staring over the landscape of our wonderful little piece of paradise.
He doesn't mind that I'm quiet in these moments, just like I don't ever mind the cold press of his metal chain or how the dog tags on it always find a way to slip past the edge of my tank top and rest against my spine, because we're both content to enjoy the simple security that comes with it being a wonderful day.
NOTES FOR THE READERS:
I've left several teasing clues in the dream sequence Nora had, it shouldn't be very hard to figure who the party crasher is, and if you go to the Photobucket page for this chapter it should be even easier to figure out.