A/N: The penultimate chapter! Thanks for all the follows. I hope you've enjoyed this. It's been really fun to write.

Chapter 7

Almost instinctively, Carly zoomed into flight mode. She ripped out her contacts. They would crumble to dust in seconds. The room had windows, but she hesitated. Becky. If they caught Becky, she would be a fount of information. Carly had two choices: escape with Becky, or kill her. She definitely wanted to avoid the second choice, but Becky'd never hold up under interrogation. Heck, she'd just volunteer everything to be helpful. Becky was about the least evil person Carly knew.

Carly flew to the door, peeked out. No alarms. No guards. "Gotta run, Beefy." She winked to Lance. "I'll be in touch." Carly sprinted out into the hall, legs propelling her faster than a normal kid, ears and eyes alert, dress fluttering around her legs. If the control car was compromised, maybe the authorities wouldn't suspect anything at the mansion. After all, the car should have been blocks away.

Nah, they'd figure it out. Lance did.

Carly skittered into the ballroom. No sign of Becky. Did they have her? A hand grabbed her. Carly whirled around, palm-edge ready to strike. It was Larry, the long-haired-with-stubble gay Marine wannabe.

"Whoa. Everything okay? You look like a mess." The guy eyed her hair and clothes.

Carly'd forgotten all the debris that still clung to her dress. "I came with a friend. Short, curly hair. Have you seen her?" She pulled out her phone, showed Larry a selfie with Becky while she scanned the room. Becky's 'target' was there, no Becky.

"I don't know. Are you sure you're alright? You need any help?"

"I gotta go." Carly extricated herself from Larry's grasp.

Dammit dammit dammit. Bathroom? Carly stepped in. No Becky. Seconds ticked off in her mind. Did they already have her? Why the heck did Carly bring her anyways? Becky was a liability, an untrained civvy.

With a pang, she realized that she had just wanted a friend. Evildoers couldn't really afford them, and she'd convinced herself that Becky was just part of the mission. But it was more than that. Damn this human feelings crap. Friends gave her choices she didn't want to make. Maybe she wasn't as evil as she pretended to be. She should just abandon Becky to her fate. What kind of evil overlord risks herself for so-called friends? Run. Flee. Turn tail.

No. Carly got Becky into this mess, she'd get her out. Being evil didn't mean being a coward, fearing every knock on the door. She could overthrow governments without being a dick about it. She snuck back through the halls, alert for anything, past pictures of former governors, of the state's sports teams, replicas of famous bills. Yes, this house would fall, but not today. Right now was about getting Becky out of here.

A noise, ahead. Carly crept along the wall, head down. All she had on her were a few plastic vials with various agents and a smoke bomb. She reached into a hidden pocket in her dress, grabbed the bomb, and flicked the fuse. She tossed it into an empty room and pulled a fire alarm. Red and white lights flickered in the corners along with a sharp tone. Shouts echoed through the wood-accented corridors.

Carly ducked into another room while a tide of people hurried past, avoiding the smoke that curled along the ceiling. Once past, she crept along, listening for any clue. She texted "where ru" to Becky. No response. She tried dialing. No answer. They must have her. Carly entered a code and tossed her phone into a trash bin where it would dissolve in seconds, leaving nothing but electronic goo. Outside the room, she pattered down the hall, listening for anything, ducking away when people ran past.

Carly so wanted to run for it as well. No one would fault her. In fact, she would be congratulated. But no. Becky.

Down the next hall, a door opened. A head stuck out. "Help me," cried Becky, and the head disappeared back into the room.

Carly charged. She pulled open the door and jumped in.

Six guns faced her, ready to carve holes in her head. Her stomach collapsed. By the looks of them, black emblems on black uniforms, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents held the guns. Carly spun around. Another gun faced her.

"Sit down, Carly." Becky motioned with her gun to a chair. Carly stared at her opponent's face, the fun Becky gone. This one was serious, and looked years older. Carly glanced at all the weapons trained on. Yes, she could fight, die for the Cause. But how could Becky betray her like this? It was a coup of evil, admirable in someone she'd never guess capable of such a wicked betrayal.

Carly sat, if only to give herself time to think, to slow her heart that threatened to pound out of her chest. An agent slapped cuffs on her wrists behind her back. Curses. Curse curse curse curse curses! How could she have been so stupid, trusting Becky? The fraud.

A woman had been sitting in the back corner at a desk, studying a laptop. "Well. Some party. We were here for a completely different matter, and we stumble into you."

Carly stared down at the swirling patterns in the carpet, then back at the woman. She was pretty, late 20's, auburn hair. Not so tough-looking. No weapon. But she had command of the room. The woman stepped out behind the desk. "Hello. My name's Agent Skye. Rebecca here has been filling us in. Apparently, you have a proficiency with computers and hacking, and a disregard for rules. And then there's this." Skye put a picture of the hole in the bookcase on the wall screen. Looked like a wrecking ball had been through. "You were shoved through a wall and barely got scratched. Unusual, I'd say."

Carly stared at Becky, black hate filling her soul. So Becky was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? Since when? Was that their plan all along, to expose Carly? Carly had risked her life for her enemy?

The woman agent sat on the edge of the table. "The question we have here is whether you will be an asset or a liability for us. It all depends on how you answer my questions."

Carly's throat filled with gasps, tears cluttered her eyes. Crying? "I…I don't know what anyone's talking about. Why do you all have guns? I haven't done anything."

"It's clear to us that you're involved. With who or what we're not sure."

"I'm sure," said Becky, but Skye waved her to silence.

Carly sniffled, not really an act. Damn right she was scared. Yeah, she'd trained, but all that had been fun. This was serious. Those men had guns. Super strength or not, a well-placed shot would kill her. She wasn't Wolverine. "Becky, what is going on? Why do you have a gun? Why can't I go home?" She rattled her handcuffs for emphasis. She wondered if she could snap them. Never had tried. Had a handcuff pick somewhere in her dress.

The woman stood. "I need to go talk to Lance Conrad for a bit. When I get back, you'd better be ready to talk with us."

Before Skye reached the door, it swung open, and the governor strode in. He took one look at Carly, and slammed a fist across her face like a sledgehammer. Carly fell on the floor, the coppery taste of blood filling her mouth coupled with the pain of a dental visit gone wrong.

"How dare you trigger my son?" screamed the man, hovering over Carly.

Carly huddled on the carpet, hands cuffed behind her, stunned, little gasps clutching her throat. Crashing through the wall had been nothing compared to the hammer that almost dislodged her jaw. What was that guy on?

"Get him the hell out of here," yelled Agent Skye. "Now!" Guards grabbed the raging man and shoved him out the door shouting and screaming about how he'd kill Carly.

A hand touched Carly's back. Becky. Concern in her eyes, gun tucked away.

Carly spoke through broken lips. "Please, Becky, help me. I just want to go home."

Skye knelt next to Becky.

"See? Blood." said Carly, red liquid seeping from her mouth and dripping on the carpet.

Skye motioned to the guards who righted Carly back up on her chair.

"Tell me what happened then."

"Lance never touched me. Yeah, I'd heard about the Elephant guy on some website, wanted to see for myself. Sure, I messed with him, made him mad. Figured he'd confess it was all made up to make himself look big. Everyone's a superhero nowadays, right? Then he busted through a wall and I crawled after him, tried to calm him. He was confused, thought he had hurt me. But do I look like I'm some superhero?" The tears kept coming. Some master agent. Her jaw throbbed. Blood trickled onto her chin.

Becky turned to the woman. "Skye, let me get her cleaned up while you talk to Lance. I'll watch her. Just make sure that jerk doesn't get back in here."

Skye nodded. "Okay. But we'll need a full debriefing. I want to know exactly what happened in that room."

Becky nodded. Skye left, leaving the two of them alone.