A/N
Hey guysss, thank you so much for reviewing the last two chapters, it means so much :) Also yeah I know the whole wardrobe thing is like Narnia, but worry not, it's not exactly the same and I do reference Narnia in the chapter below. Anyhoo enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel
Everything's dark. The silence is eerie. The benumbing air bites my skin. Time stands still.
Minutes pass. I'm floating in a sea of nothing.
The next thing I know, I'm tumbling into what looks like a wardrobe from the inside. Head first, I crash into the wooden double doors, busting them open to reveal a small bedroom, and a boy.
His bright green eyes widen to the size of dinner plates, hands flying to cover a certain area, while a white towel is sprawled at his feet. I can't say I don't like what I see.
"Who are you?" he demands, while slowly crouching to lift the towel to cover himself.
"Where am I?" I ask, completely ignoring his question and taking a look around his room. It's quite cramped, with a bunk bed on the left wall, a small desk with a computer on it and a door leading to a teensy little bathroom on the right wall, and the wardrobe I had just fallen out of.
This has to be a dream. I can't just walk through my wardrobe and find myself in some guy's room. This isn't bloody Narnia.
"Answer my question." His eyes are narrowed and his voice is harsh.
"Answer mine first."
"That's classified."
I force a sarcastic laugh out, mocking him.
"You sound like you just walked out of some cheesy spy movie," I tease.
"Who. Are. You?" The boy's sharp green eyes glare into mine, almost threatening me.
"Girl you don't know," I answer, taking another look around the room.
My eyes land on the white symbol that's stamped on the boy's shut laptop. It's the eagle of S.H.I.E.L.D..
"S.H.I.E.L.D.?" I raise my eyebrow at him. "Didn't peg you as a Marvel fan."
"Marvel?" he questions.
"You're kidding, right?" I raise an eyebrow, curious about his confusion. If he isn't a fan, why is there a S.H.I.E.L.D. sticker on his laptop?
"Are you high?"
I laugh.
"Are you? What's with the S.H.I.E.L.D. shit then?" I challenge.
"That's classified."
"You sound just like Coulson," I smile, remembering all the times he'd say that .
"You know Director Coulson?" The boy's eyes are wide, full of wonder.
"Yeah…?" I answer cautiously. Seriously, is he high?
"Is he as good as they say he is?"
"Um yeah, I guess."
"Have you met the Avengers too?"
"Okay mate, seriously, what are you on about? You're scaring me."
"Huh?" We wear a matching expression of confusion.
"You're talking about them like they're real people…"
"Because they are?"
I would be enjoying his shirtlessness a whole lot more if he wasn't scaring the crap out of me. I must've walked into a mental institution. That would explain the utter blandness of the room.
"Where am I?" I ask again, hoping that this time I'll get an actual answer.
He's cautious, I can tell. He seems to actually be considering telling me where we are.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy."
"Right," I say sardonically, a laugh escaping my lips.
"You don't believe me," he states.
"How dumb do you think I am?"
He's taken aback by my words.
Definitely a mental patient. I just hope he doesn't have a knife stashed somewhere.
"I'm so confused right now…" he mumbles, still clutching the towel around his waist.
"Yeah? Join the club."
"You say you know Coulson, so why don't you believe me about the academy?"
"Because he's not real," I say bluntly.
"But you said-"
"Yes, from movies and comics!" I exclaim, my arms flailing in frustration.
"Now you're the one scaring me."
"Seriously, where are we? The state of delusion?"
He ignored my jab at him and simply repeats what he said the last time I asked that question.
"If you're so convinced that we're in S.H.I.E.L.D., then prove it," I challenge.
Instantly he walks over to his desk, picks a plastic card up and throws it to me, frisbee style. I miss, obviously, and crouch to pick it up off the beige carpet. It's an ID card.
S.H.I.E.L.D. Academy Junior Operations
"Calum Harper…" I read his name out. "Wow, you cos players go all out, don't you?"
He raises an eyebrow. "Cos players? Look, I don't know who you are or how the hell you got in my room, but if you don't tell me right now, I'm going to report you to Agent Watkins."
My mum's right, I do have an overactive imagination.
"Jeez, don't get your knickers in a knot. My name's Lyla and I came out of your closet."
"How?"
"I was packing shit up in my wardrobe at home and I fell in, and now I'm here." Must've bumped my head real hard too.
"So what you're saying is, your wardrobe is a portal to my universe," Calum muses.
I laugh. "Yeah, something like that."
I glance at the analog clock hanging beside the bathroom door. It reads half past six.
"Crap, is that the time?" I ask. Calum turns to have a look and nods.
"Looks like it."
"Well I must be going," I say, turning to go back into the closet.
"Goodbye Lyla," Calum calls after me as I push through several S.H.I.E.L.D. uniforms and step into the white wall in the back of the closet.
Maybe he really isn't a mental patient. Maybe I am.
This time the journey was quick. I was instantly faced with the emptiness of my new bedroom instead of the sheer blackness I had met the first time.
I stand beside the vile desk chair, dumbfounded. Was all of that…real?
"Lyla!" my mum's impatient voice barks as she barges into my bedroom. "I've been calling you for the past ten minutes."
"Sorry, sorry…I was a bit preoccupied…with packing," I scramble to think of an excuse.
Her eyes shift to my still mostly full suitcases which lay open on the floor. She gives me a sceptical look and rolls her eyes.
"Right. Come on, dinner's ready."
After one last glance at my wardrobe, I shake my head and follow my mother to the kitchen.