"Y'know the last time I was in Germany, and saw a man standing above everyone else, we ended up disagreeing," Captain Rogers announced.
"The soldier," Loki greeted. The Dragon sidled up behind the Asgardian and motioned with her hand for the people to start moving away. They slowly began to move but Loki firing a blast at the Quinjet made them pick up speed. Steve launched his shield at Loki and engaged him in a fight as Dragon kept people moving and out of the way. Once the last straggler was gone, she turned back to find Captain Rogers thrown along the ground.
"Oh yoohoo! Yeah, you with the overcompensation," she taunted. Loki turned just in time for a boot to land across his face. He stumbled back as the Dragon stalked forward. She rolled her shoulders and flexed her fists and brought her knee up to collide with his side. The Asgardian buckled slightly but brought his staff up, slamming into her shoulder. She tried to grab it by the shaft but he expertly spun it so that she went rolling along the ground.
Captain Rogers immediately took her place, his shield discarded on the ground as he went hand to hand with the god. Steve lasted a bit until Loki forced him onto his knee.
And then the Dragon tried to stab him.
The god ducked the blade she clutched in her hand and she bent backwards to avoid the golden spear. Dragon used the momentum to land on her hands and push back up into a standing position, her foot sticking out to trip Loki but it passed through the apparition. She swore under her breath, glancing over to find Rogers fighting the real Loki.
"Guy's all over the place," Natasha said over the radio.
"Yeah, thanks. I didn't see that already," the Dragon snarked.
AC/DC came over the radio and the Dragon grimaced. Of course.
"Agent Romanoff, you miss me?"
Iron Man landed next to Dragon and she sighed as he aimed his heavy artillery at Loki. They were handling it. Maybe not well, but they were handling it. The last thing she needed was some billionaire telling her how to do her job.
"Make your move, Reindeer Games," Stark threatened. Loki raised his hands in innocence and shifted into more…normal clothes.
"Mr. Stark," Rogers said in greeting.
"Captain. Agent."
The Dragon pushed past the two men and approached the Asgardian. She stopped just short of him and crossed her arms over her chest.
"Get up," she barked.
"You're going to have to ask nicer than that, I'm afraid."
She grabbed the front of his tunic and yanked him up, extracting a wheeze from the god. She marched him to the quinjet with Captain Rogers at her side, Stark and Romanoff following behind them. The dark haired agent threw him into a seat and grabbed the seatbelt. It wasn't the best restraint, but it would do for now. She held it out with a raised eyebrow and he willingly slid his arms through the straps.
"You know...Barton told me a lot about you," Loki hummed as she clipped the straps together. The Dragon stayed silent and avoided eye contact, focusing rather on the task at hand. "But not everything, it seems. You have power. I can sense it within you."
"I've killed men for saying less. Don't tempt me."
The dark haired agent stood, tightening the straps hard enough that he choked slightly. With a saccharine sweet smile, she made her way back to the cockpit where she stood behind Natasha's seat.
"Saying anything?" Fury's voice crackled over the comms.
"Not a word," Natasha huffed.
"Just get him here. We're low on time."
Lightning cleaved the sky in two and thunder rocked the Quinjet. The Dragon grabbed onto the wall to stabilize herself as they swayed back and forth.
"Fuck." She grabbed onto the back of Natasha's seat. "Coulson and Clint dealt with this guy the first time."
"What's the matter? Scared of a little lightning?" Captain Rogers questioned the Asgardian.
"I'm not overly fond of what follows," Loki retorted.
The jet jolted as something hit it and Natasha snapped her head over to look at her partner. "You don't mean to tell me...?"
"New Mexico. I read the briefing files."
"Think you can do something about it?"
"You really think too highly of me if you think I can take on two Asgardians by myself."
Something landed on the Quinjet roof, rocking the ship and causing the Dragon to stumble. A steady hand on her arm kept her upright and she nodded at Rogers in thanks. They both turned to find Stark opening the back hatch of the jet. Loki's brother landed on the ramp with a thud and the Dragon cursed under her breath. Before she could move, the god of thunder slammed his hammer into Stark's chest, knocking him back into the Dragon. She hit the ground with a grunt, her head colliding with the metal floor.
Stark picked himself up, leaving the agent sprawled out on the floor. She blinked once and then twice to clear the fog from her head, but pain radiated from her temples. The Dragon went to pick herself up but hesitated and instead flipped over so she was on her knees.
"Jane!" Natasha shouted over Stark and Rogers arguing.
"I'm fine!" The Dragon called back. "I just…shit." She raised a hand to touch the back of her neck and pulled it away, finding no blood. Her head didn't hurt like a concussion, it hurt like someone was stabbing her skull.
"Dragon." Rogers bent down so he could see her better. She looked up and found worry in his eyes, something that she had never seen before from anyone. None that she could recall, that is.
"I'm fine, Steve. Go." The words sounded foreign even to her own ears and he hesitated but stepped away and down the ramp. The roaring of the wind faded as Natasha raised the ramp. The two women looked at each other and the Dragon just shook her head and pressed her forehead against the cool metal of the wall.
"Later," she gasped out, her head aching. "Not here."
Natasha glanced over at the pilot and then back at the agent. She understood.
After picking up the boys from their little rendezvous, they returned to the Helicarrier where a team of soldiers greeted them to transport Loki. The Dragon stepped off the Quinjet after them and started to make her way towards the main deck when she was intercepted.
"Dr. Sanders," she greeted the sandy blond haired man coolly.
"You missed your psych eval," Joel Sanders, SHIELD psychologist, barked.
"I was busy. Do you mind?" She moved to walk around him and he grabbed her arm to stop her. Her hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, twisting his arm back to a position that was dangerously close to dislocating his shoulder. She released him in an instant and stepped back, her hands clasping behind her back as she stared at him blankly.
"Sanders, you of all people should know not to grab her like that," Romanoff called as she joined them. The redhead casually placed herself in front of her, her eyes dark with an unspoken warning. Dr Sanders shook his head and pointed an accusing finger at the two.
"You need to stop enabling her behavior," he argued.
"And you need to understand when to stand down."
"After this mission, you are required to talk to me. Before you kill someone else."
The Dragon scoffed and spat out a bitter "fuck you" before she walked off towards the bridge. Anger burned in her chest but she shoved it down. It was her fault she was SHIELD's psych puppet. She couldn't control it the first time. This was her punishment.
"What was that back there?" Natasha asked once she caught up with her.
"It wasn't like before. I wasn't losing control. In fact, it felt like I was gaining it for a second. I don't know. Hurt like a bitch, I can tell you that."
Natasha stopped her and leveled her with a steady gaze. "We'll figure this out once we're all back. Clint and I made a promise to you."
"You really believe that, huh?" A wan smile crossed her face. "Because it's seeming like we'd all be better off not knowing."
"Are you two just going to stand there and gossip or are you going to come in?" Rebecca called from the end of the hall. The Dragon rolled her eyes but followed her handler to where the others were. She and Natasha took their seats at the table where screens showed them live feed into the cage.
"It's an impressive cage. Not built, I think, for me," Loki commented.
"Built for something a lot stronger than you," Fury retorted.
"Oh, I've heard. The mindless beast...makes play he's still a man. The lost woman you all seem so desperate to protect from her own mind." Attention shifted from Bruce to the Dragon. He looked uncomfortable by the attention, she looked nonplussed. In fact, the only noticeable difference in her appearance was the slight clench of her jaw. Other than that, her brown eyes stared fixed on the screen before her.
"How desperate are you to call on such lost creatures to defend you?"
"How desperate am I? You threaten my world with war. You steal a force you can't hope to control. You talk about peace and you kill 'cause it's fun. You have made me very desperate. You might not be glad that you did."
"Ooo, it burns you to have come so close. To have the Tesseract, to have power, unlimited power. And for what? A warm light for all mankind to share and then to be reminded what real power is."
"Well, you let me know if real power wants a magazine or something."
The screen shut off.
The Dragon hesitated and then pushed away from the table. "I need a moment."
Her footsteps fell in time with the steady beat of her heart that quickened as she drew closer to the room that she needed. She shoved her thumb into the ID reader and waited for the door to open before she threw herself into the room.
The motion sensor lights turned on, revealing a few punching bags hanging from the ceilings by chains. She didn't even bother putting gloves on and instead just threw her fist into the nearest bag. It rattled and shook from the force of her hit, mirroring how she felt.
"We've missed you around here."
She let out a tight laugh at his words and sighed. "You're a damn good liar, Coulson."
"I'm also a damn good listener."
The dark haired woman turned to look at him and shrugged. "What's there to say?"
"Have you learned anything?"
"About who I am?" She met the bag with a quick one-two sequence that had the chains rattling and groaning from the ceiling.
"What else?"
The Dragon dropped her fists. She racked her mind for anything. Anything at all. A sign, a symbol, a phrase. But it was just the same nothingness that she had woken up with three years prior.
"Nothing. There's nothing. No clues. No hints. I'm nobody. I'm a ghost. I don't exist. How the fuck is that possible? Three years, Phil, and we haven't found one lead. Three years and I don't even know my name."
He cleared his throat and sat on one of the benches that lined the edge of the gym. "What if I told you that I think I have a lead?"