Discliamer: I do not own Marvel.
(A/N) Heh, this update is a tad late...
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Proactive ch. 1
Introductions
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Erica wakes up slowly. Her cheek pressed against something cold. She lifts her head, it feels heavy, blinking at her surroundings. A man with an eye patch and another with a bow and arrrow stand a few feet away, looking ready to shoot her.
The young woman is hurting all over, now understanding what people mean when they say they feel like they've been hit by a truck.
Truck.
She was hit by a semi truck.
Her mind is groggy and barely registers the older man prodding her and checking her injuries as she tries to remember what happened. She can't even freak out proper about being hit by a truck and the strange men asking her questions.
What's he saying? Rolling onto her side, Erica blinks uncomprahensivly at another man wearing an eyepatch. She dully realizes her ears aren't working. They feel warm, she muses sleepily.
Erica tries to sit up, her left side protesting, but the floor is oh so comfortable. She tenses when the older man wraps her right arm around his shoulder and supports her up. She's grateful for the help, but still feels a bit awkward.
He's saying something again, this time directed at Eyepatch and his friend with the bow and arrow. She could feel his voice vibrating against her side.
There was something familiar about these men. It was on the tip of her tongue. What was it? Had she seen them around town? The grocery store? She'd think she would recognize Eyepatch. He had that look of someone you'd have a pretty hard time forgetting.
The kind elderly man led her over to a chair another person had brought over and set her down. Erica brought a hand to her temple to try and ease her growing headache. Her hand stung. She brought it down and finally noticed all the little cuts littering her skin. Ow.
Eyepatch, who seemed more and more familiar the longer Erica stared at him, was asking her something. His words were coming in clearer now, but it still sounded like he was talking to her while she was underwater or something.
"Hhoo ahh yoo? Waa... yoo kuhmm fruu...?"
"...huh?"
Someone calls out and the older man rushes off to do something.
Erica takes a moment to look at her surroundings. The ceiling was really high up and there was a sci-fi, steering wheel looking thing with cables leading to a platform of some sort. Gaze returning to Eyepatch, who still sounded like he was underwater, Erica spots a logo on his coat. Its a circle with a stylized bird.
"That symbol is so familiar..." Erica mutters.
Eyepatch furrows his brow, about to order the girl be taken away for questioning, when the Tesseract flares up again.
The room shakes and Erica nearly falls out of her seat. Eyes wide she watches a beam of energy shoot of the wheel and-
Is that a portal? Are those stars?!
The portal doesn't stay open for long and collapses. Or rather, relocates to the ceiling. Erica inhales sharply as dusty blue energy passes through her and everyone else. The hairs on her arms stand on end like when she and her brother would hold them close to her dad's old box TV when they were younger.
Kneeling below the portal was a man in green armour, a pointed sceptor in his hand. He lifted his head, a grin on his face. His sharp gaze scanned the soldiers and scientists.
Erica's breath caught in her throat when he glanced her way. He didn't pay her any attention. There was no lingering gaze or anything. It was just the fact he'd looked at her at all. Because she'd finally realized why the Eyepatch was so familiar. And that steering wheel was no steering wheel.
"Shir, pleesh put bown the peer." Said Nick Fury. Everything still sounded like it was underwater, but Erica knew this scene. Her brain always added music because of that one YouTube video that turned it into a song. Next, Loki, for that was who the green armoured man was, would say 'No, I will not put down the spear'.
ZaaaaAP!
Or he would shoot Nick Fury and Hawkeye with it instead.
Erica scrambled out of her chair and croached behind. Because obviously a cheap metal folding chair can protect her from the power of an infinity stone.
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!
ZaaaaAP!
"Aaagh!"
Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta! Ta-ta-ta-ta-ta!
SHiiink!
Erica squeezed her eyes shut and gripped the back of the chair tightly. There was shooting and fighting and shouting all around her. What is happening?! Someone grabbed her arm and dragged her behind a work station. She didn't hesitate to drop to the ground and cover her head with her arms.
As quickly as the fighting started it ended.
"Plese don't. I still need that."
Erica's eyes snap open. Wow, he even sounds like Tom Hiddleston.
"This doesn't have to get any messier."
"Of course it does." Loki argues, voice rough and tired
Erica peaked her head over the table. She couldn't believe what she was seeing. Loki of Asgard pacing the room, turning the surviving SHIELD agents into his unwilling puppets, and Nick Fury distracting him so they'd all be buried under tons of rubble.
"We have maybe two minutes before this goes critical." Selvig confirms from a work station next to the one Erica was crouched behind.
Loki looks a little worried by that. "Well, then."
Hawkeye takes that as his cue to shoot Fury. And Erica takes that as her cue to duck back under the table.
When she no longer hears the sound of footsteps Erica leaves her hiding spot to check on Fury. "Uh, are you okay?" She hovers next to him, not sure what to do. Should she help him up? Is he bleeding? What're you supposed to do when someone's bleeding again?
He barely glances at her as he pulls out a walkie talkie. "Hill! Do you copy? Barton has turned." He pushes himself to his feet, shouting orders. "They have the Tesseract! Shut them down!"
Grabbing Erica's arm, Fury drags her out of the base.
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Beeep... Beeep... Beeep...
"Ugghh..."
I squeeze my eyes against the harsh light and take a deep breath as I stretch in bed.
"Ah! Owowowow!"
I suck air through my clenched teeth. Ow, my arm hurts! Did I sleep on it wrong? Now very awake, I carefully sit up and hold my arm close to me. That's when I notice my arm is in a cast. Like, a straight up plaster cast. When I was seven I sprained my arm and had to keep my right arm wrapped and in a sling.
At least I won't have to worry about sloppy hand writing this time around. I think to myself, the pain now a dull throbbing.
Looking up I notice I'm in some kind of hospital room. It doesn't look like St. Jerald's hospital, so its not local. The decor here isn't as inviting. More practical than pretty.
"Hmm..." I glance at the heart monitor. A nurse or someone should be by soon, now that I'm awake. In the mean time, let's go over what happened.
Ricky and I went to the movies, saw the new Avengers movie, he dragged me out because he was "hangry" or whatever, we argued in the car, we-
We were hit by a truck.
My chest tightens and my eyes start to sting.
We were hit head-on by a big Peterbilt semi-truck. No wonder I'm in an unfamiliar hospital! They probably had to fly us out. Its a mirical I'm even alive.
I take deep breaths to try and lessen the tightness in my chest. Now's not the time to panic. There's no reason to panic. You're fine. The semi hit your side of the car, so if you're alive, so's Ricky. Every- everything is OK.
I raise and lower my good hand in time with my breathing, as though I'm petting the air. "Everything is Ok. If you- if I'm alive, Ricky is alive. The nurse or doctor or whoever will be here shortly. I'll ask about Ricky and everything's gonna be OK. Should probably stop talking to myself, or else they'll think I'm crazy." I chuckle a little, releasing some tension from my shoulders.
Not long after my near panic attack (was it gonna be a panic attack? maybe I'm just exagerating) the doctor walks in. He introduces himself as Dr. Oathout and asks me how I feel.
"Pretty good, all things considered. A little tired, though."
"Good, good." He holds up a pen light. "Look this way please. Mhm, eyes look good. Is it too bright in here?"
"A little." I smile nervously.
He turns a knob on the wall and the lights dim. I sigh, blinking my eyes. I nod my head. "Thank you."
"Your welcom. How's your hearing?"
"Its ok." There's a slight wining sound, but I almost always hear that. I think its called tinnitus? Whatever, its unrelated to everything else.
Dr. Oathout stares at me expectantly.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't catch that."
"That's alright. I just asked you what's the last thing you remember."
"The last thing I remember is my brother and I leaving the movie theater and getting hit by a semi truck." My breath catches and I take deep breaths to get rid of the tightness forming in my chest and throat. "Where is... Is Ricky ok?" He has to be ok. I'm alive, and I was driving. My side of the car was hit, so obviously Ricky is ok.
The doctor pauces, his pen hovering over the clipboard supposedly with my information on it. "You were in a car accident. Could you describe in detail the crash?"
"Um, yeah. Ricky and I were leaving the parking lot. We were arguing, so I wasn't paying as much attention to the road as I should have been." I nervously chuckle. I'm so losing my license after this. "The light must have changed because the next thing I knew there was a semi truck right outside my window. A Peterbilt, I think."
"Hmm..." Dr. Oathout sets the clipboard down and comes around the bed to check my moniters.
I swallow, my throat tight again. I try to breath through my nose to calm myself, but its a bit stuffed. How long have I been here? I hope mom will bring my allergy pills. I'm surprised she wasn't here when I woke up.
Dr. Oathout looks up from what he's doing. "I'll be right back. You should get some rest."
"...ok."
Without another word he leaves the room. Leaving me alone to my thoughts.
My nose tickles and my eyes sting again.
He didn't answer my queston.
Is Ricky alright?