Chapter song: I Wish I Was the Moon by Neko Case

Vernon limped behind me, clutching his ribcage. "You need to calm down."

I spun on my heel. "This IS me being calm," I shouted, causing him to shrink back. I glanced guiltily at his side, but continued storming down the hall. By now several of the maids were watching us curiously.

"I changed my mind," I said, facing them. "Everyone has an extra week of vacation – starting now. Get out!" I barked, watching them scurry away.

"And as for you," I said, looking at Vernon, "you're fired."

"Silvia – "

"Tell Ronan that if he wants to know what's going on in my life, he can ask me himself. He doesn't have to send one of his lap dogs to spy on me."

Vernon shook his head. "You have no idea what is happening."

I laughed loudly once. "Exactly! All I know is strange shit keeps happening to me, and Ronan just left me here to figure it out on my own. Two months," I said, holding up two fingers for emphasis. "And not a word from him, but he clearly has time for you."

Vernon's face hardened. "I know this may be hard for you to understand, but he is far too busy to write love letters and concern himself with the feelings of a Terran female," he said, stopping as his face contorted with pain. He took a short breath. "Ronan is not human – he is Kree. You should consider it an honor he even sent me after you."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, it's a huge honor." I muttered, walking away. "And don't patronize me, Vernon. I know he's far from human – I learned that the first day I met him." The memory of him breaking my finger and throwing me across the room was still fresh in my mind. My finger suddenly throbbed with phantom pain as I remembered the distinct sound of my bone snapping.

"I'm not leaving. I have orders – "

I shook my fists and stomped back over to him. "If you're not out of my house within five minutes, I swear I will call SHIELD on your ass. They would just love to get their hands on someone like you," I said with a satisfied smile.

He smiled back, though it was more of a grimace. "And you."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I said, eyeing him suspiciously.

"I've seen SHIELD's records. You report me, and they'll bring you in too. They see you as dangerous."

"Dangerous?" I exclaimed. "I haven't even done anything dangerous."

"In their eyes, anything different is a threat," he said, growing quiet. "They also have your DNA."

My cloud of anger slowly dissipated. "Fuck," I groaned, rubbing my forehead. "Well, how do I get it back?"

Vernon shook his head, disappointment heavy in his eyes. "It's too late. The sample has already been tested. They know you're not simply human."

I slowly sank down into the chaise lounge next to me, feeling as if a heavy stone now rested in my stomach. "But… I look normal. See?" I said, pointing at my eyes. Vernon's eyes became heavier with thought as he glanced back and forth between my eyes and my hands. He inhaled sharply with pain and sat down on the sectional across from me.

"What happened?" He asked as his eyes rested on my modified hand.

"Honestly, I don't know." I shrugged. "I blacked out and woke up with it," I said, staring at it as well.

Vernon's frown deepened. "This is terribly wrong, Silvia."

"Yeah, no shit," I sarcastically replied.

Vernon remained uncomfortably silent sitting across from me. He shook his head and sighed heavily before looking down at his torso. "I think you broke a rib." I watched as he pushed his fingers into his side, tracing the side of his ribcage. "Or two," he chuckled quietly, stopping as it seemed to cause him more pain.

He was effortlessly making me feel like the biggest bitch in the world. "I'm sorry," I said, frowning as I realized how badly I hurt him. "You'll heal quickly though, right? Isn't that a Kree thing?"

He smiled softly. "Yes, it is."

There was too much on my mind to sit still, so I began aimlessly pacing the room, thinking quietly to myself. Vernon remained on the couch, occasionally grunting with pain as he rested with his eyes closed. When I walked past him for the hundredth time, I caught him peeking at me through one eye.

"Is your name really even Vernon?"

He smiled softly. "Yes," he said with a pause, "but others know me by a different name."

My curiosity kept me standing still. "Well, what is it?" I pressed.

"Mar-Vell."

"Vernon Mar-Vell," I grinned, unable to hide my amusement. Almost every Kree I met so far had a similar sounding name. "You guys are fond of two-syllable words, huh?"

Vernon returned the smile. "Well, you are half-Kree," he said. "Perhaps it's time you join us and change your name."

I snorted. "Yeah, right."

As the room once again became filled with suffocating silence, I found myself biting my nails, a habit I always did when I was abnormally worried. Vernon's own expression became serious as he watched me continue my frantic pacing. The hardwood floors were already beginning to lose their shine.

"What am I going to do?" I said, sighing loudly. When Vernon didn't answer me, I paused to look at him.

With his eyes now fully wide and alert, he focused on the expansive window and rose from the couch, wincing slightly as he did so. Now feeling alert myself, I quickly walked behind him as he strode over to the wall, looking out into the city with hawk-like attention. I followed his stare and squinted curiously as I caught a brief, white flash on one of the rooftops nearby.

"We're being watched," he grunted. I continued staring at the rooftop with growing annoyance. I couldn't see anyone, but judging from Vernon's intense stare I knew there had to be.

I tapped the window casually. "I made these windows reflective for a reason. They're photo-proof. No one can see through them – not even SHIELD – I made sure of that," I muttered resentfully. Vernon remained tense, staring madly into the bright afternoon sun.

I touched his arm. "Vern – Marvell? Oh, whatever – did you hear me? We don't have to worry about SHIELD seeing us in here."

His worried expression was making my pulse rise. I looked out the window once again, and immediately saw another flash of light. It appeared to be some kind of reflection.

"It's not SHIELD," he said in a solemn tone.

"Well, who is it then?" I asked anxiously, watching him narrow his eyes. Even with his enhanced vision, I knew he couldn't see perfectly at this far a distance.

I ran over to the coffee table and grabbed the pair of binoculars – which up until this point were used solely for decoration – and quickly handed them over to him. He held them up to his eyes and almost immediately the corner of his mouth twitched, as if he were surprised and disappointed at the same time.

"What is it? What do you see?" I urged, looking between him and the rooftop.

"Nothing," he said quietly before lowering his hands. When I raised my eyebrows at him, he returned the binoculars to me and nodded at the window. When I looked there was nothing there, just as he said.

"Jesus," I exhaled tiredly. "Don't scare me like that." He glanced once more at the window before meeting my gaze.

"It was not my intention to frighten you. I thought I saw…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "Forget it. I need to rest. I will return to you this evening," he said, turning to leave the room.

I took a step forward. "What about SHIELD?" I asked. "If they know I'm different, what am I supposed to do?"

He stared at me with tightly drawn lips, looking tired. "Stay out of sight," he said seriously. I reluctantly nodded and lowered my eyes to the floor, but then another more troubling thought crossed my mind.

"Hey," I said, stopping him again. He looked at me expectantly, stopping at the end of the hall.

"Do you think Ronan is mad?" I asked. Vernon immediately shook his head, but I couldn't tell if he was trying to say 'No, of course not' or rather, 'Yes. Why even ask?' When he left without another word, I knew it was the latter.

I slouched disappointedly as he left me alone to my thoughts.

Just as I turned on the television, something in the corner of my eye caught my attention. I stared uneasily at the same rooftop just in time to catch the flashing light we had seen minutes earlier. It was gone before I could blink. I shuddered nervously and grabbed a pillow nearby. "Karen, close the blinds," I ordered quietly. A few seconds later I was sitting alone in the dark, scared of a little light.

My stomach rumbled hungrily as I stared into the contents of my fridge. It was completely packed with vegetables, fruits, meats, and other fresh ingredients, but nothing that could be quickly thrown together. That was the downside of having a full-time chef my whole life. I never learned how to properly cook. After burning every meal I attempted to make, I gave up and spent the rest of the day eating grapes and PB&J sandwiches, but now I was out of bread. So here I was, standing in my kitchen like a lost, sad child.

"Karen, I'm hungry." God, I'm pathetic.

"There are sixteen restaurants within walking distance. Would you like me to make a reservation?"

"I'm not supposed to leave the house. I need something delivered."

"One moment." I sat down at the kitchen bar and watched as a list of restaurants appeared on the wall nearby. "There are two four-star restaurants nearby which provide delivery services."

I was on the phone less than a minute later with a friendly host, ordering a steak and salad. "And how long will it take to get here?" I eagerly asked.

"Approximately one hour."

My stomach growled angrily in response. "An hour," I sighed.

"Yes. I apologize for the delay, ma'am. We have several orders ahead of you." The host nicely replied. "Name, please?"

I rested my chin in my hand and slouched. "Alamanni," I answered tiredly. There was a long pause on the other end.

"As in Silvia Alamanni?" The host asked excitedly.

"Yes, that's me," I said, eliciting an excited gasp from her.

"Wow – um – hi! Sorry. I can't believe I'm talking to you."

"So… is it still going to take an hour?" I said in a hopeful voice.

"I'm sorry Miss Alamanni, there's nothing I can do about the wait time. My manager strictly enforces a first-come, first-served policy. However," she said, her voice growing higher, "you can always come here! I'll put you on the waiting list so by the time you arrive your table will be ready."

The rumbling in my stomach was making it hard for me to resist her offer. Still, Vernon's warning left me hesitant to leave the house.

"But I'm not – " I began.

"Miss Alamanni," she pleaded, "I know you're new in town, so let me give you some advice. Anywhere that delivers is going to have at least an hour long wait time, especially on a Friday night. If you come here I can have you eating within the next twenty minutes."

"OK, OK," I relented with a laugh. "I'm on my way."

I quickly slipped on a black dress and matching Miu Miu flats, with a silk scarf neatly wrapped around my hair and face. If the scarf wasn't enough to fool passing pedestrians, then the high collar on my coat would do the trick. Audrey Hepburn would be proud, I thought as I gazed into the mirror. As I snuck past the hall which led to Vernon's bedroom, I contemplated waking him up and informing him that I was going out, but I figured he would only object to me leaving the house. Slowly and carefully, I tiptoed my way to the elevator to prevent the heels of my shoes from clacking against the marble floor. As soon as I reached the lobby a great sigh of relief left my lips, making me feel all the more ridiculous for sneaking out of my own home.

There was a slight breeze in the streets, heavy with an aroma that smelled of gasoline and grease. The maple trees outside my building were now basking in a warm shade of orange. Their leaves marked the sidewalks with the beautiful colors of Fall. To my right, an endless line of taxis honked impatiently at other drivers and pedestrians to get out of their way. Hordes of people cluttered the sidewalks, traveling in groups from one place to another, laughing loudly and stumbling with drunkenness. And here I was, a lone wolf, walking through Hell's Kitchen by myself on a Friday night.

I was three blocks short of the restaurant, now the only person within sight, and jerking at the smallest sound. About two blocks back, I took a wrong turn and stupidly decided to cut through an alleyway to save time. The newly-painted graffiti and thick stench of ammonia rattled my nerves more than I cared to admit. I found myself nearly jogging halfway through the dimly lit passage. I was less than ten yards away from the main street when I heard a scream come from the side alley I just passed.

It was a short, piercing cry, obviously belonging to a woman. I froze in the alley and halfway turned, deciding whether or not I should intervene myself or call the cops. A second later, her muffled cries began echoing back to me. It was a no-brainer. I had to help her.

My concern for the woman transformed into chilling fear as another scream erupted into the night. I know that pain. That terror. It was a sound I knew far too well. I pushed my legs harder until I felt the wind rip the scarf from my head.

When I found her, she was pinned to the ground by two burly men, both easily weighing over two-hundred pounds. They were behind a dirty, old dumpster hidden from the public eye and too far away for the woman's screams to be heard from any passing pedestrian. Luckily for her, I was no ordinary person.

As I came closer and heard their malicious taunting and the woman's desperate pleas, my rage became so blindingly hot I could feel my skin grow warm. The hot, prickling sensation grew to become that familiar buzzing that only came with my power. The fatter of the two men stopped in his effort to remove the woman's clothes and looked up with a stupid look on his hairy face. When he saw me he immediately scrambled backwards with a frightened yelp, startling his ugly friend in the process.

"What the fuck is this?" The fat one yelled, pointing at my hands. The other man's eyes grew larger by the second as he took me in. I followed their gaze and found my hands were glowing a pretty shade of yellow.

"Well that's different," I casually thought aloud. A second later I heard the hammer of a gun being pulled back. I slowly looked up, hoping to find I had just imagined the sound.

Nope. Definitely real - and it has a silencer. That's just great.

"You don't want to shoot me," I said in a calm, cool tone.

"Bitch, shut the fuck up! You're one of those freaks we've been hearin 'bout. I knew they were real," he said, nudging his friend. "I'd be doin' the world a favor by killin' you."

"Do you know who I am?" I asked, frowning with disbelief.

"I don't give a fuck who you are you, bitch. You're dead now," he said, raising his gun. "And when I'm done loading your ass with lead, I'm gonna give your friend my other load," he sneered, grabbing his crotch.

My face curled up in disgust. "Yeah, that's not going to happen," I coldly replied. The fat man stepped forward until I felt the cool end of the silencer press against my forehead.

"Oh, yeah?" He revealed his yellow stained teeth with a smile. "How 'bout you watch? Go on, Vinny." His friend grossly chuckled as he approached the woman again.

With my eyes locked on the man in front of me, I remained perfectly still, waiting for my opportunity to make a move. A bullet to the head would certainly kill me – well, at least I think it would kill me – and I didn't feel like testing that theory out tonight. I would be of no use inside a body bag.

I patiently waited for him to blink or look away. There. Time to move. One short second later, the man was on the ground unarmed and unconscious with me lying on top of him. I barely tackled him, but apparently the fall was too much for him. A few seconds later a red trail of watery blood began pooling in his ears and trickling onto the concrete.

Oh fuck, I think he's dead. Oh fuck. Shit!

The other man, AKA Vinny, stood up with a dazed look on his face. "You – you killed him," he stuttered with shock. I began shaking my head, not wanting to believe it myself. Now looking like a rabid dog, he reached underneath his jacket and revealed a shiny .44 Magnum. There was no silencer on this one, so the sound would undoubtedly draw attention. Unfortunately, I would be dead long before the cops arrived.

It was in the air pointing right at me before I could make a move. He was too far away, and there was nowhere to hide. I closed my eyes and prayed – for what, I'm not sure – but all I saw was a purple, handsome face. A thunderous, loud crack filled the alley as the gun was fired; only, I felt no bullet pierce my skin.

I opened my eyes out of confusion and found Vinny pushing himself up from the ground, now staring furiously at the other woman. "You fucking cunt!"

She was standing over him, now backing up with her hands raised in the air. She pushed him, I thought, tearing up with gratitude. She saved my life.

She glanced nervously at me. "Kill him," she pleaded in a strange British accent.

I couldn't exactly blame her for wanting him dead, but I wasn't about to start killing on demand. However, that didn't mean I couldn't hurt the bastard. Now that his attention was no longer focused on me, I had my chance to take him out.

My hands began glowing yellow once more, buzzing with wonderful, unchartered power. Before his index finger could push down on the trigger, bright blasts of energy ejected from the palms of my hands, hitting him directly in the chest. He was sent flying into the wall behind him, instantly rendering him unconscious. I stared at my hands in awe, and then walked over to the man to inspect the damage. Once I was certain he would not be getting back up, I lowered my hands and hesitantly made eye contact with the woman, who was wearing an expression of astonishment and admiration. Now that I was actually looking at her, I immediately noticed how stunning she was.

Long black hair fell across her shoulders in wavy ringlets, framing her naturally beautiful face and deep, green eyes. She was easily a head taller than me, and her supermodel-type figure was making me feel dumpier by the second.

I ran my hands through my hair and inspected the ground around me, trying to figure out what the hell I was going to do with this bloody mess. With a tired sigh, I kneeled down next to the man I killed and stared numbly at the blood still flowing out of his ears. My thoughts of running away to our island in the French Polynesia were interrupted by another gunshot.

"What the hell?" I shouted, spinning around. Vinny's brains were now splattered all across the pavement. The woman was aiming the gun at his pulverized head, muttering unintelligibly with rage.

"Fuck," slipped from my mouth more than a few times. OK, so never mind about the cops.

She pulled her gaze upwards, appearing as if she forgot I was here. In the blink of an eye her entire demeanor changed. With wide, frantic eyes she dropped the gun and backed away from the body. "Oh no," she whispered, covering her mouth.

"It's going to be OK," I said, though I felt the exact opposite. I was absently nodding my head, as if the gesture itself would make everything fine.

She pointed at the pieces of brain scattered across the concrete. "I just killed a man," she said slowly, as if I didn't understand. The truth was I understood better than anyone else

I glanced nervously behind me, making sure there was no one on the street to witness this fucked up situation. I held my breath and listened carefully for the sound of sirens, knowing it would only be a matter of minutes before this place was swarming with cops. Not wanting to waste any more time, I searched the men's pockets and collected their wallets, quickly throwing them in my purse. With one hand wrapped around the fat man's ankle and the other holding my phone, I pressed speed dial and called Vernon as I dragged the body next to the dumpster.

"Hello?" He answered, clearly confused.

"Hey, it's me. No time to explain. Meet me on the corner of 10th Avenue and West 51st Street. Bring the car, a dress, gasoline, and uhh," I hesitated, glancing at the woman, "a tranquilizer," I added quietly so she wouldn't hear me.

"Preferably before the cops get here," I said, prompting him to sigh.

"On my way," he said before hanging up. With no effort at all, I raised the man's body over my head and unceremoniously threw him into the dumpster.

"What are you doing?" The woman asked as I began collecting the other man.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" I said, trying not to get his blood on me. Damn it, too late. When I finished disposing of his body, I pulled a mirror from my purse and reapplied my lipstick and perfume.

"You're awfully casual about murder," she said, watching me closely.

"This wasn't murder, it was self-defense," I snapped, suddenly feeling defensive. "Besides, you're the one who killed an unconscious man so don't try to make me feel bad here." Her face tightened with unease.

"You're right," she said, once again appearing upset.

"They had it coming," I muttered, unsure of what to say. She wrinkled her brow and stared at uncertainly. After a brief, awkward silence I spoke up again. "What's your name?"

The corner of her mouth twitched, but she paused with a thoughtful look. "Sif," she finally answered, smirking slightly as she did so.

"So… unique," I replied, unsure of why she was smiling. "I'm –"

"Silvia," she answered for me. I nodded and shrugged, not surprised at all. Most people know who I am. This comes in handy when I forget my ID at a bar, but right now it was anything but helpful.

Much to my relief, Vernon arrived a few seconds later, coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the alley. The woman took a step backwards but I held tightly onto her arm, keeping her in place.

He approached us in quick, long strides, holding one hand behind his back. "What is the meaning of this?" Sif demanded, glaring angrily at him.

"You're going with him back to my place until this gets sorted out," I said, hoping my calm tone would rub off on her. Panic flashed across her features as he came closer.

"That is not necessary," she said, nodding at his hidden hand. How does she know what he has? Vernon and I glanced uneasily at one another, but I quickly returned my attention to the woman. If she was cooperative then there was no reason to sedate her.

"Fine," I sighed, "then get in the car." She remained still. "Now," I said more impatiently.

With a resentful scowl, she briskly walked to the car and slammed the door behind her. Vernon hit a button on his key chain, instantly locking her inside. He flashed a disapproving look in my direction before approaching the trunk.

"Why did you ask me to bring this?" He said as he roughly threw an ivory, lace dress at me. I rolled my eyes as it landed on my face, but chose not to say anything smart. If anyone deserved to be angry at this moment, it was him.

He was walking over to the dumpster with a metal canister in his hand, staring at me expectantly.

"I have a dinner reservation," I answered, already changing into my new dress. When I caught him shaking his head with obvious disapproval, I couldn't help but defend myself.

"It would be suspicious of me to not show up," I exclaimed. Again he shook his head, apparently too disappointed for words. This is what I get for trying to do good, I thought as he tossed something into the dumpster, causing it to blaze with unearthly, blue fire. Without a second glance, he seized my old dress and returned to the car, hastily speeding away as the sound of sirens began filling the air.

Before any smoke residue could collect on my clothes, I gathered my purse and ran through the alley, continuing onwards to the restaurant. I found my scarf from earlier and again wrapped it around my head, successfully covering my disheveled hair. I arrived at the restaurant five minutes later, appearing perfectly normal but feeling like a total wreck on the inside.

After being greeted by the excited host and signing a few autographs, I sat down for my meal and silently worried about my guest waiting for me back home. I didn't regret saving her, but I should have been more careful. It was idiotic for me to intervene when I didn't even know what was happening with my own body. My anatomy as well as my powers were constantly changing and I had no idea how to control them. It also troubled me how interwoven my emotions and powers had become. This made going out in public especially dangerous. I just killed a man without even trying. At that moment, Ronan's warning resonated throughout my mind: "Do not allow your emotions to determine your fate."

With a sarcastic snort, I finished the bottle of wine on my table and paid for my meal. Upon exiting the restaurant, the hostess kindly flagged down a taxi for me and helped me into the small car.

"Take care, Miss Alamanni," she softly said, closing the door behind me. With a tired laugh, I leaned my head back and waved my hand out the window to say goodbye. With the wind blowing through my hair, I closed my eyes and imagined I was flying in the air.

"We're here," I heard the taxi driver announce suddenly.

"That was fast," I said, opening my heavy eyes. I rummaged through my purse until I found my wallet, and placed a handful of bills into the impatient driver's hand. My doorman opened the car door for me and guided me into the building, allowing me to hold onto his arm.

By the time I reached my floor, all I wanted to do was pass out on my bed and sleep forever. Unfortunately, Vernon was not going to allow that to happen without a proper scolding. The elevator doors had barely parted when I heard his voice, steaming with resentment.

"Two days in your service, and already I am an accomplice to murder."

"Shouldn't you be used to that working for Ronan?" I slurred, dropping my purse onto the floor.

"The Hala you say," he growled as I grabbed ahold of the wall. "Come on." His hand was holding onto my upper arm, pulling me away from the wall and down the hall. With slow, deliberate steps he led me to my bedroom, sighing every now and then when I stumbled in my drunken state.

As we passed by one of the guest bedrooms, he nodded and said, "I locked her in there." His tone suggested he was none-too-pleased with her, as if something had happened while I was gone. "I don't trust her."

"Well, she probably feels the same. We kind of kidnapped her."

"And whose fault is that?" He grumbled, glaring at me.

I remained quiet as he opened my bedroom door and helped me to my bed. He stopped by the door on his way out and said, "We will deal with her in the morning." I sensed there was more he wanted to say, but he turned the lights off and quickly left.

In my current state of mind, thinking about tomorrow was damn-near impossible. Unfortunately, my worries once again resurfaced as soon as the alcohol was clear from my system. My father's election was a week from now and if this were to leak to the public, he would lose the election and I would go to prison. Not just prison, SHIELD prison. If what Vernon said earlier was true, then that meant the government already knew I was half-alien, and it would only be a matter of time before they came knocking on my door. But it wasn't just my life at stake, Vernon was in trouble too. We couldn't keep this woman locked up forever, and we couldn't kill her.

I don't know what to do.

With a sigh of resignation I rolled out of bed and tiredly trudged along the floor straight to my vanity. I snatched the glass bottle and angrily tapped one of the white, spherical pills of Nirvana into my palm. I was so eager to make my mind go blank, I swallowed the pill without anything to drink and ignored the bitter taste it left on my tongue. A minute later, I was knocked the hell out.

Unaware because I had drugged myself into a coma-like sleep, a dark figure slowly approached my bed, watching me with a wicked smile. Its hand brushed the tangled blonde hair away from my face, revealing my tear-stained cheeks.

"It's almost too easy."