Agent of Shield

Chapter 2

TWO HOURS LATER...
    I feel someone grab my arm and pull me into the cockpit of the plane, "Oi, what in the bloody hell are you doing?" I shriek, grabbing the knife I keep stuffed in my shoe. "Relax, 'Max,' it's just me," May says, I visibly relax and slide the knife back into its holster, sitting down in the co-pilot's seat.
    "Why are you here?" she asks calmly, "Fury sent me, why are you here?" I question, putting emphasis on the word 'you,' "Fury sent me," she sighs, "That bloody wanker," I curse, "Of course he'd bloody do this, I thought this mission would be simple," I sigh.
    "Well Thalia they obviously can't know we know each other," she states the obvious, "Just play it cool, don't say anything referring to our pasts, or our names, and we should be fine," I say, pulling on a string that's hanging off of my bracelet.
    We both agree and head our separate ways, I head to the training room, doing some late night boxing always helps me sleep.
    The strength I put into my punches gradually increases as my anger rises, running over old memories in my head.
    "Clean this up, Thalia, now!" he'd scream at me, and when I bent to pick up the broken glass he'd step on my hands, forcing the shards through the frail skin.
    I screamed in agony but that only made him put more pressure in my hand, tears streamed down my face as the glass was embedded deeper into my hands.
    After he was finished tormenting me, he forced me to clean up the blood that fell from my wounds, not allowing me to clean or bandage them.
    I scream, punching the bag as hard as I can, tears of anger streaming down my face. "Shit," I curse under my breath, shaking my wrapped wrist to ease the pain.
    I pour water over my face, pulling off the boxing gloves and running my fingers over the scars on my hands and wrists. "Hey," Ward's voice calls from behind me, I quickly pull on the pair of black leather gloves I always wear and turn around.
    "Hey," I call back, readjusting the wrist of the gloves nervously, "Can't sleep, either?" he asks, gesturing around the training room. "I don't sleep much," I say, finishing the rest of my water and unwrapping my wrists.
    "Want to practice?" he questions, I shrug and we walk over to the mats, he throws the first punch going for my jaw but I see his weight shift slightly from his left to his right, meaning he was going to try and kick my legs out. I smirk and flip over his leg, ducking to miss his punch as I kick the back of his knee, making him fall with a loud thud.
    He stands back up and this time I kick first, watching as he dodges it, I use his momentum against him and as soon as my foot hits the ground I lift it again, sending a roundhouse kick to his ribs. He doubles over and I use this as my chance, I flip onto his shoulders, using his body weight against him he falls to the floor. I climb on top of him and straddle his chest, holding both his arms down at his sides.
    "Where did Coulson find you?" He chuckles, I climb off of him and help him stand up, "Britain," I chuckle, tossing a water bottle at him.
    "Seriously, where were you trained?" he questions, an unconscious shiver runs down my back when I think of my training, "I'd rather not say," I reply solemnly, flipping the cap of my water bottle in the air.
    He nods in understanding but doesn't bring up my training again, instead he excuses himself and heads towards the bunks.
    I train for a couple more hours before hitting the showers and then the bunks.
    THE NEXT MORNING...
    I hum along to the music in my headphones quietly, pretending I don't feel Ward's curious eyes on me. I dance around as I cook pancakes for the team, doing my best not to throw a knife through his heart. No, I don't know where he went, although he did seem pretty adamant on the whole 'lone wolf' thing, I chuckle to myself, finally spinning around and pretending to be shocked when I see him standing in the doorway.
    "So, pancakes, huh?" he asks, looking at the stack of pancakes on the plate in my hand, I nod my head and smile, still imagining throwing my knife at his heart.