...all you've ever been is a pawn…
I'm not sure how long I stood in that hallway. It seemed like forever before several SHIELD agents filed in, one of them lifting me off the floor to move me, setting me aside like I was only an object in the way. I watched as they crowded into Steve's apartment, cleaning, analyzing, talking to each other in hushed whispers. Eventually a muscular male agent took me by the arm and lead me away from the scene, his grasp a little too tight.
"Where's Steve?" I asked. I'd hoped he'd be the one to come home, though I realized how stupid that was. Of course they'd send SHIELD to clean this up. And at this moment, Steve was probably being questioned. The evidence that he's part of Fury's death is pretty strong, the voice chimed.
"Captain Rogers is going to see Alexander Pierce for a few questions," the agent answered, confirming my suspicions. "And they want you to come in."
"Me?" I asked. My head was throbbing, my eyes feeling sunken and sore from crying.
"Yes, you," he answered.
"For Project Insight?" My stomach reeled at the thought. I couldn't tell them about the phone call with Fury. But if they asked me to continue working, what would my excuse be to get out of it?
"No. The project is finished. Several of the engineers completed everything last night, I was told. You're wanted for a different reason."
"A different reason?"
"Yes." He didn't elaborate. I held my tongue as I was lead into a SHIELD vehicle and driven to the Triskelion, where I was then taken inside and into the elevator. We departed several floors up. I'd been on this floor many times; Kathrine's office was here, towards the far end of the hall. I realized she would probe me for answers to see if I knew anything about the incident—that's what they needed me for. If there was anyone that could get me to talk about Fury's phone call, it would be her. For some reason this made my heart beat faster, though mentally I felt a wave of relief. These conflicting reactions between my body and mind were about to drive me crazy. Between my thoughts insisting Steve was at fault for this mess and my body tensing and sweating with every accusation, I couldn't tell what I truly believed. Maybe a good session with Kathrine was just what I needed. Or, maybe this was all a trick. SHIELD was full of tricks.
"Annabelle," I heard a voice call, vaguely familiar. I looked up and met eyes with my blonde neighbor, the 'nurse,' who crossed the hall to meet me. How stupid I'd been to assume she was only an innocent neighbor. She wore a SHIELD logo on her uniform now.
SHIELD really was everywhere.
She rested a gentle hand on my arm and looked to the man who'd been leading me, his fingers still tightly wrapped around my arm.
"I've got this," she said. The man didn't release me.
"Pierce's orders. She's going to see Zindel. The orders were 'as soon as possible.' She doesn't have time to chat." I held my breath for a moment, triggering an electric shock that ran down my one arm as I exhaled. He quickly pulled his hand away as the shock made contact with his fingers, shooting daggers at me with his eyes.
"Only a minute," my neighbor commented, giving him a look. Holding his pained hand to his chest, he hesitantly retreated. I breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.
"These last several hours have been crazy," I murmured, bringing a hand up to rub the spot on my arm where the man had been gripping me.
"Everyone is a little high strung from everything that's happened. Are you okay?" she asked me. I nodded my head despite the fact that, clearly, I wasn't.
"It's just a lot to take in." I couldn't begin to explain the painful pulsing in my head, nor the viscous thoughts I'd been keeping stuffed in the back of my mind. Chances were that I was going crazy—really, clinically crazy. That's how it felt, anyway. That's why you need Kathrine. Kathrine will fix everything.
"I'm Sharon. Sorry I never got the chance to introduce myself to you before. It wasn't really my job to socialize with you," she said after a moment.
"Then it was your job to watch me?" I asked.
"Not you. Captain Rogers." I nodded, embarrassed that I'd assumed she was there for me. For once, it seemed like I wasn't the one being closely monitored.
"Does he know that?" I asked. She shifted her eyes down for a moment, then back up at me.
"He does now."
"I'll bet he isn't happy with you," I said carefully. The look on her face had already confirmed it. Steve hated for things to be hidden from him—it made him volatile. That was one of the big things he and I had in common, after all.
"He'll come around, I'm sure," she responded, a sort of sharpness in her eyes that I couldn't place. Her emotions were stable, surprisingly, though I guessed that was the SHIELD training at work.
"Of course he will." I glanced anxiously at an agent who made his way down the hall, my body tensing. At any moment someone could come back to retrieve me and take me to be questioned. If I told them about the phone call, would they assume I'd been the one to kill him? Naomi had told people jokingly once about my 'crush' on Steve, so I knew that at least a percentage of SHIELD was aware of it. That was going to be evidence against me, especially if they decided Steve was guilty of murder. He couldn't be, of course. He could be, though.
Sharon noticed my unease and lowered her voice.
"I'll cover for you if you want to go get a drink of water. You don't look so good. Everyone's in a frenzy...I'm sure it's nothing against you. Go ahead and take some time, then come to them when you're ready. Alright?" Giving her a grateful look, though also fighting a strange sort of animosity that had been growing in me the more I spoke to her, I nodded my head.
I headed down the hall as quickly as I could without looking suspicious and ducked into a women's bathroom. It was a single bathroom, which I was grateful for, and I quickly locked the door. I turned the water on cold, pacing around the small space of the bathroom as it ran. I needed to calm down. Sharon was right; everyone was high strung, including me. If I could only cool off and think logically, things wouldn't seem nearly as bad. My thoughts could be centered and my body could relax. That was the only way I had a fighting chance of keeping Fury's phone call a secret from Kathrine.
I returned to the sink and ducked down, splashing my face repeatedly with icy water. This, if anything, would at least bring the puffy redness out of my eyes. I splashed my face again. As I reached for a hand towel I felt Steve's presence—he seemed to be making his way down the hall outside. Without thinking, I threw the towel aside and pulled the door open, meeting him just as he passed the entrance. He stopped his brisk walking and stared at me, his face straight but his eyes widened, the only sign that I had startled him with my abrupt movement.
"Annabelle?" he asked, furrowing his brow. I grabbed his arm and pulled as hard as I could to get him into the room with me. As soon as he was in I moved behind him and shut the door, leaning my back against it, as if someone was going to throw it open if I didn't. That startled look in his eye didn't subside. He was scared. And it wasn't me he was scared of.
"This is the women's bathroom," he commented, keeping his eyes on me. When I didn't respond, he furrowed his brow again and rested his hands on his belt.
"What do you need?"
"I don't know," I said, quickly, then shook my head. "I mean...something is going on and I can't put my finger on it."
"Fury was killed. SHIELD is a mess. What more is there?" He tightened his jaw a bit after mentioning Fury, his hands gripping his belt a little tighter. I ran a hand through my hair, trying, and failing, to collect my thoughts.
"I think you did it," I said. His expression changed for a moment, then hardened. I'd seen this look before, but never directed at me. My heart tugged in my chest.
"Of all the people I thought would turn against me, I didn't think you'd be one of them," he said coldly.
"No, let me explain," I said quickly, sucking in a deep breath and almost choking through the air. "There's these voices in my head—or a singular voice—or maybe they aren't there at all, I don't know." I paused as he stared at me, expression not changing. "These voices are telling me it's you. Blaming you. But I...I don't." I squeezed my eyes shut, a nauseating pain rolling over me. Stop talking. He'll think your insane. Tell him it's a joke. Make this right.
"Voices?"
"Yes. All the time. They keep getting worse. I can't even—I..." I felt like I was going to pass out. Do not tell this traitor anything. Don't sympathize with him. He's the bad guy. You know what's right. Listen to me. Don't say another word. Leave. Now. My palms were sweaty, and I wiped them against my pants while I tried to center myself. I couldn't tell why this was happening, why my mind was suddenly so hostile. The voices seemed to be fighting for themselves, afraid of being found out. Was my mind becoming so toxic and unhinged that it was actively fighting against me? Was I truly losing my sanity?
I resisted the urge to scream out loud. Managing to open my eyes, I looked up at Steve, who was starting to look more concerned than angry. His blue eyes bore into my own, so many feelings coming over me that I felt suffocated. Then, I acted without another thought.
It's funny how you never realize how tall someone is until you're trying to be at their level. I found I had to stand on my toes to even get close. I grabbed at his arm to keep me from tipping over and brought my lips to his, nearly immediately losing my balance. I would have fallen if he didn't grabbed me, his hand firm on my arm, though gentler than the man who had escorted me earlier. Heat radiated off of his fingers.
The voices in my head seemed to stop all at once. For a moment he leaned down closer to me, my heels making contact with the floor again, my balance restored. I brought my hand from his arm to the back of his neck, hoping to keep him there, as if doing this would mean he'd never pull away. But, he did. All too quickly. He kept his hand firm on my arm but yanked his face back, out of my reach.
"What are you doing?" he asked, though he sounded more flustered than demanding. The voices were still silent, and I took a moment to appreciate that silence before I could speak.
"I wanted to see if it would make a difference," I said, quietly. A difference with what, though, I wasn't exactly sure. Was I trying to prove something to him? Or, maybe, something to myself? It had seemed like the right move, though I couldn't—and wouldn't—sift through my thoughts right now to make sense of why I'd thought kissing him was the thing to do. It had been some kind of urge from the back of my mind, from a space that had been hidden under all the whispers and soft voices I couldn't place. I nearly swayed as I tried to keep my mind blank. It was impossible, of course—thoughts were always there, no matter how hard you tried to clear your mind. But, for now, they were simple thoughts. I could work with simple.
Steve's grip on my arm tightened ever so slightly.
"You need to go back home and rest. You're unstable."
"They're taking me to Kathrine," I explained, my words sounding strange on my tongue. There was a strange buzzing in my brain. I couldn't tell if it was the high off of kissing him or something else.
"Your therapist? That might not be a bad idea."
"I know. But I feel really wrong about it. Really uneasy." I stared at him, looking for any sort of sympathy. He audibly sighed.
"Do what you have to do, Annabelle. I trust you'll make the right decision. But things are crazy right now. Be careful." He moved me effortlessly to the side before releasing my arm, pulling the door open.
"You're leaving?" I asked. I didn't know what I'd expected, but I was very quickly starting to panic again.
"I have to go. Go to your therapist or don't, but just get yourself to a point where you can relax, okay? Please. This situation is having an ill effect on everyone. You're not alone." I opened my mouth to speak as he started off down the hall, but I couldn't get the words to come out. Instead, I stood in the doorway and lightly touched my fingers to my lips, contemplating what I'd done. My thoughts were seeping back in. What was going to happen now? Was he just going to forget this and move on? Could I forget this? Was he right? Maybe I really was going crazy. At first I'd been offended that he hadn't said anything, hadn't made any comment at all about the fact that we'd kissed. Maybe he was embarrassed. Or, maybe it was a much bigger deal to me than it was to him. He was back to business the moment it was over, when I was still drowning in a sea of emotions. Had it even been worth it? Stupid, stupid, stupid...
I lost track of myself. A few agents ambushed me from different sides of the hall several minutes later, a woman grabbing my wrist and another my free arm, while I just stood there and took it. I didn't understand why they were treating me this way—I hadn't done anything wrong. Did they assume I'd had something to do with Fury's death? It was true that I blamed myself indirectly for not telling anyone about the phone call, or the way that Fury's voice shook, ever so slightly, when he spoke to me. I couldn't read emotions over the phone. I hadn't even been sure what he was feeling. But I couldn't tell anyone that now, and no one had any way of knowing about it. So why all of this?
The agents jerked me down the hall and towards Kathrine's office, parading me in front of glass meeting rooms where other agents were sitting, watching. I saw Sharon behind one of those walls, watching me with sad, confused eyes. Everyone else was a blur. My interaction with Steve weighed heavily on my heart, but everything else was quickly taking it over. Thoughts were moving through my mind too quickly for me to process them, but my body, shaking, buzzing, throbbing, was clearly reacting to what I couldn't comprehend.
I can't say for sure what made me snap. Maybe it was all those eyes on me. Maybe it was the agents' grips on my arms, a little too tight for comfort. Maybe it was Steve. Or, maybe I felt too threatened, too restricted, and it reminded me of my days back with my father. Whatever it was, it made me lash out. The panic welling inside of me finally overflowed, and I stopped abruptly in the hallway, pulling my arms back as forcefully away as I could. Because I was so emotional, little licks of electricity sprang from my skin, grabbing at those nearby, lashing against their skin. One man shouted out in pain. It felt relieving to let the energy out, but that relief was very quickly squashed as several agents appeared as backup, grabbing my wrists and locking me up with handcuffs like a criminal. I could have easily broken handcuffs apart, but...these were different. There was something about these particular cuffs that made my hair stand on edge, my insides constricting as they made contact with my skin. These, like the sleeping pills, seemed familiar. Too familiar.
I was forced into Kathrine's office, her blood red décor stunning to my tired eyes. The door behind us was slammed shut, the sound echoing in the small space, adding unnecessary strain to my aching head. Kathrine sat at her desk, calm, serene, just like always. If it wasn't for the horribly uncomfortable cuffs and my escort of SHIELD agents, this would have seemed like a normal session. She laced her long fingers together and looked at me with concern in her endless eyes.
"Is everything alright? What's going on? Why are there so many of you forcing her around?" She stood, weaving her way around her desk to face me. "This is unacceptable behavior," she said, looking to one of the agents holding me.
"She was acting erratic, ma'am," one responded. Kathrine shook her head.
"No excuse. The poor thing is already traumatized I'm sure from all of what's been going on around here. All I asked Pierce to do was send her my way when she came in so that I could make sure she was okay. This is too far." The agent dropped my arm, though didn't remove the cuffs. The sensation the metal had on my skin was agonizing. I felt like everything was being drained, like my soul was crawling out of my fingertips, sulking out of the room. It reminded me of when my powers had been stolen those months ago, or when I'd been unable to see Naomi's aura through the fog of that device she'd brouht. It reminded me of the mechanical piece in my heart. My father.
"Where did you get these?" I spat suddenly, pulling violently at the cuffs. I ignored the sting as the metal seared against the skin of my wrists, whipping around to face the group of people that had cuffed me. I wasn't sure which one specifically had done it, because five or six people had followed me into the room, but I would find them. I had to.
"They're SHIELD technology. Something that dims abilities," an agent explained.
"No," I started, trying to keep my voice from shaking, "this is my father's technology. Meant for me. Meant for my abilities."
"Now, now, let's not get carried away," Kathrine spoke up, crossing the room to put a hand on my shoulder. "You're scared. You're projecting your negative feelings from your past onto the present situation. These are SHIELD designed handcuffs for dealing with gifted individuals. It may seem like everyone is out to get you right now, but I promise that isn't the case. Annabelle...look at me." She laid a gentle hand on my cheek, her palm warm. It took every ounce of my strength not to meet her eyes. I knew what power those eyes had.
A speaker in the corner of the room buzzed on, distracting Kathrine for the time being. There was a cough, a tap, and then a voice spoke up.
"This is Alexander Pierce," it said, his voice low, "and as of now, Captain Rogers is a fugitive of SHIELD. Do what it takes to get him back here." The speaker buzzed again as it faded out, leaving the office in an eerie silence. I felt my eye twitch.
"You know," I spoke quietly, "I'm pretty good on my feet."
"What's that supposed to mean?" an agent asked, but before they could get an answer I'd swung my leg up, getting him across the face with my shoe. He stumbled back and hit the wall, stunned. What happened next went so fast that I can barely recollect it. Agents came at me from all directions of the room, grabbing at me, clawing me, one pulling out her gun and aiming it straight at my head. Kathrine retreated to the corner of the room, keeping her eyes on me, hoping to make eye contact. I wasn't going to let that happen. I only had one thought, one thought that was purely mine, I was sure of it: I had to find Steve Rogers.