So it goes with saying that only things I own with any connection to MARVEL I bought on Ebay or Etsy. MARVEL COMICS & MARVEL CINEMATIC UNIVERSE are their own creatures and I have nothing to do with either of them aside from the fact I enjoy reading or watching them, and am grateful for the ability to play in their world. I claim nothing, and I receive nothing for this, expect the pleasure of putting something out into the world.
This story is part of several prequels leading up to That Which Wanders is Unaware. The sequel to TWWiU will be updated every week, but the prequels will be updated is I get to them.
You can also find this story on ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN under the same title and pen name.
CHAPTER TWO
DAY TWO
TUESDAY JUNE 16TH 2009
0900 HOURS
S.H.E.I.L.D FACILITY: THE SANBOX
(LOCATION CLASSIFIED)
CLINT
Sleep was short lived, but that was okay, because of the skills I picked up working in S.H.E.I.L.D was the ability to power nap, and any lingering effects from that will be driven away after a cup of coffee.
I'm a high ranking Agent, stationed on a long term assignment, so that got me my own apartment with a view. And by view I mean the holo-window next to my bed is currently showing a country sunrise over the hill, and a deer grazing. This whole facility is buried in sand. The human mind gets a little funny if can't see the world for too long.
The apartment's in typical S.H.I.E.L.D style. Its a combination of stainless steel and polished wood. The furniture is what you'd call modern I guess. The bedroom set is two bed side tables and a armoire to go with the bed frame. They're all dark stained wood with metal accents for the handles or just decoration.
The living room section has gray carpet, and a third table matching the bedroom set, that's sitting by the door. The rest of wood is a lighter shade. Two more closets and a row of shelves sits behind the white couch and dark coffee table that sits in front of a flat screen TV.
The hallway has more shelves, and on the left is a small kitchen. All the appliances are stainless steel. Microwave, coffee/espresso maker, coffee grinder, dishwasher, trash compacter, sink and fridge. Even the X shaped plate rack matches. Its got a small round table with a wooden top, and the wall of paneling is there to offset the metal.
On the other side of the tiny hall is the bathroom. Its all stainless steel, but it makes up for that by the vertical radiator on the wall and the heated floor. Aside from that its pretty basic. A sink is built into the right half of the cupboard, with a mirror that touches the ceiling. Then it's got the typical shower, and a toilet.
Nice accommodations for a top secret military facility designed to hold dangerous shit.
I chug what's left of the espresso from last night, that ended up waiting for me on the coffee table. Its cold, and disgusting but I didn't do it for the taste. Then I start a fresh cup before I take a shower. I have a couple time-zones on my skin, and since I'm meeting a this woman for the first time I'm doing it clean, and shaved.
Next on my list is breakfast. My tiny kitchen has no stove or toaster, but S.H.I.E.L.D keeps the fridge stocked with microwaveable meals and things that don't need cooking. There's no such thing as a regular schedule when we have people coming from all over the world, and some people prefer the privacy of not eating in the cafeteria. I know I do, especially first thing in the morning. I like getting one meal in me without whispers and nervous stares.
I end up leaving the Aunt Jemima meals, and go with one of the Jimmy Dean breakfast-bowls. They had the biscuits and gravy ones.
Clothes is last on the last and that choice is easiest because there isn't one. Ideally I'd dress in a suit to appear nonthreatening. But this 'woman' is potentially dangerous so I'm wearing my S.H.E.I.L.D standard issues tactical uniform.
TUESDAY JUNE 16TH 2009
0900 HOURS
S.H.E.I.L.D FACILITY: THE SANBOX
(LOCATION CLASSIFIED)
CLINT
"She did what?" All I wanted was for things to go smoothly. I arrive, I tell them to wake her up, we talk, we bond hopefully. Instead I get here and I get this.
"She, uhm, she woke up ahead of schedule sir. We were about to put her back under." The nurse is Level Three, and she's rightfully flustered by the whole situation, but she's also not the one at fault.
"Yeah, you're not going to do that..." They already drugged her back into oblivion once, and I get why, but if I had been here then I wouldn't have let them. If we keep sedating her every time she blinks wrong she is never going to trust any of us. "...but you are going to fire whoever the anesthesiologist is."
With an assignment like this, I have administrative authority. So if someone screws up, or I don't like the staff dealing with her, they're off the assignment. I can even reassign them out of the Sandbox if I want. But I'm saving that for those who really screw up, like the one with the broken arm. He really didn't do anything wrong, but I guarantee seeing him will scare the woman, so we are just going to eliminate that problem before it becomes one.
I can't eliminate these problems though. They've got her in hospital room, and that means she comes with a medical chart. It has a diagnosis section on it. Dissociative Amnesia. Haphephobia. The signatures on the bottom make me bypass my urge for a second opinion. If Dr. Goodman AND Streiten signed off on this diagnosis I"ll trust it even if I hate it. "How bad's the amnesia, and what is Haphephobia?"
"She presents both signs of repressed memory, and dissociative fugue..." The fact I'm not a neurologist shows in the rise of my eyebrows on the second one. "She's completely unaware of her own identity, and may attempt to create a new one."
"She forgot everything, that's what your saying?" That sounds bad, but if she doesn't remember being a Nazi pin cushion that might be a good thing... "Almost everything, sir."
"She appears to have retained her fear, but not the causes of it." Closing my eyes I press my knuckles against my forehead with a very strained grin. Never mind, I take it back, its all horrible.
"And what about the other things?" To my credit, I take some delight in the fact that even she has to look up the definition of that word, and some concern. Apparently whatever it is, its not common. I prefer common psychological problems, I at least have some idea how to deal with those.
"Haphephobia... Ah here it is." She rambles for a second as she pulls the information up on her screen. "A rare specific phobia that involves the fear of touching or of being touched. It is an acute exaggeration of the normal tendencies to protect one's personal space, expressed as a fear of contamination or invasion, and extending even to people whom its sufferers know well."
"And how bad is it?" The way her face sinks pretty much answers my question. "We attempted to send a nurse in the room earlier, and her heart rate rose to dangerous levels."
So, an amnesic, phobic woman with a personal bubble the size of Kansas... "I'm supposed to deal with this, how?"
It hadn't really been a question, but she gives me an answer anyways. "The approved approach is to lie, sir." I don't miss the way she says 'approved' instead of 'suggested' and she doesn't miss the look on my face. "Didn't you receive those orders from Fury?"
TUESDAY JUNE 15TH 2009
0200 HOURS
TRISKELION
PRIVATE APARTMENT
FURY
Like clockwork. "I gotta hear THIS from a nurse, are you kidding me Nick?" The receiver barely touched my ear, and already I could hear hints of an Iowa accent in his voice telling me how annoyed he really is. "And here I thought my trip to D.C would let me have a calm night."
"Yeah, well things are less calm over here. You seriously want me to lie to a scared, vulnerable, potentially empowered being?" I understand his frustration. I know exactly what prompted this phone call. I authorized it less then a hour ago.
"No, I seriously want you to protect a scared, vulnerable and almost certainly empowered being." There's the sound of a phone being compressed in the silence, and mental gears turning.
TUESDAY JUNE 16TH 2009
0900 HOURS
S.H.E.I.L.D FACILITY: THE SANBOX
(LOCATION CLASSIFIED)
CLINT
"Protect her from who, Nick? She's sitting under the Sahara!" I felt it when I read those orders, and I can practically smell it now. Those orders reek of 'not Nick'. Deception and manipulation is part of the S.H.I.E.L.D package, I won't pretend its not, but this, its a whole other level of potential backlash.
"The World Council thinks she's too dangerous. I persuaded them she was worth more to us alive." With the subtext of not killing her and dissecting her for science right Nick? "And let me guess, I was 'just' a convenient assassin on sick leave?"
I thought there was something weird about this assignment. I hate being right. "She's a very valuable asset, and you have a history. A woman with the right kind of story is your kryptonite Clint. I gave you this assignment because I knew you would advocate her well-being over her execution."
Oh, I friggen hate you so much right now. "Did you know about the diagnosis before you made that call?"
"Yes. The report came in while you were sleeping. I've talked to both to Dr. Goodman, and the Council. There is a risk, but Dr. Goodman doesn't believe her memories will return any time soon, and by then she will have developed bonds in S.H.E.I.L.D that she will be reluctant to break."
"Loyalty through lies, that's seriously your plan?" At least when he replies he sounds just as unhappy about it. "No, my plan is to keep her alive though, and someday make her an active member of S.H.E.I.L.D. Playing ball with the Councils wishes is how we do it for now. So what's it gonna be Agent Barton?
TUESDAY JUNE 15TH 2009
0200 HOURS
TRISKELION
PRIVATE APARTMENT
FURY
His response was a sigh, followed by "Oh, I hate you so much man. Have a good night, Nick" Before he hung up on my smirk.