Lime-green eyes cracked open to a sterile, brightly lit room. White walls. Light gray floors. A single white cot in the corner. There was a wide open space in the wall between her and rows of black marble countertops.
Her head was pounding. Why?
Because of the desk. She remembered the flash of it colliding with her face, and the taste of blood on her tongue. The pain in her neck. Why had it hurt to bite?
It didn't matter, because she wasn't alone.
Two men stood at one of the tables, their hands waving back and forth. The words of their argument were muffled in a weird underwater kind of way that… oh. A tiny glare on the corner of the front gave it away.
Not an open space. A wall. Nearly invisible.
A cage. She was in a cage.
"Why isn't she changing back?"
Dark green fur prickled along her shoulders.
"I don't know."
A harsh sigh escaped the one with shorter hair as he dragged his fingers over the back of his head and turned to look at her. Their eyes locked and his muscles stiffened.
A low growl rumbled out of her throat. The other human turned.
"Alex?" The shorter haired man took a tentative step forward.
Her growl shot up a pitch, clawed fingers scraping against the floor as she pushed onto two feet. Who was he? His scent was… familiar.
An invisible fist collided with the side of her skull.
The man stopped. His hands lifted.
"Alex, it's me. It's Clint." He took another step. Small. Cautious.
Anger flashed through her like a lightning strike. Not again. Get him! Get him first!
She threw her body at the invisible wall. Thud! He jumped back, her claws scraping long white tracks along the inner surface in front of his face. Snap, snap, but her teeth only slid over the thick plexiglass.
"I don't think she remembers you," the other man said with wide eyes.
The green wolf lifted her lips in a snarl.
With a shaky breath, the short haired man took a step back toward her cage. He flinched when she jumped at the invisible wall, but didn't back up. Instead, he just stood there, waiting. After a few moments, her growl lowered to a tiny, cautious rumble. What was he planning?
He took another step, his fingers slipping into his pocket.
Her eyes immediately locked onto the hidden hand. She knew instinctively that there wasn't room for a gun. A knife? A prod? It'd have to be a small one.
The oblong little cylinder he pulled out was hers. She didn't know why or how she knew, but it was.
When had she stopped growling?
"That's it," he said. "You know us"
His free hand slid up toward the edge of the room where the invisible wall met the solid one. There was a low mechanical hum from that spot like the pulse of a lightbulb.
"You wouldn't hurt me right?" he cooed.
"Clint," the other man warned.
Her eyes snapped to him. The growl started up again.
"Hey-hey," the short haired man said.
Clint. His name was Clint.
Beep-beep-boop-beep. With a hiss the seal on the cage broke and heavy hydraulics pulled the door open.
This was it. Her chance. She had to go. Attack him now!
She growled.
"Easy," Clint said. "You want this?"
You want this?
Memories flooded back in. The island. The switch. Her collar vibrating against the black marble counter. She was in the wrong universe. This was Clint. The other man was Bruce.
Safe. She was safe.
With a thumb and single finger claw, she lifted the switch from his open palm. He let out a breath.
Clint got taller as her body shrank. Bones popped out and back into place, hair shrinking back to invisible peach fuzz over human skin. Why was she so cold?
Clint stripped off his jacket and held it out, his eyes averted in the other direction. He cleared his throat.
Oh. She was naked. Wait. Why was she naked?
She snatched the jacket from his fingertips and quickly wrapped it around her shoulders.
Her mouth opened and closed a couple times. She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to her next question, but she knew she had to.
Finally, she mumbled, "did I hurt anyone?"