Take a girl with a mysterious past out of the Bronx and thrust her into the world of the Avengers and bring her face to face with her fangirl crush Loki. After all they are just movie characters, right? They aren't real.
These are not my charact...
Mickie awakens later and realizes she is in the hospital. The lights are so bright that they hurt her eyes but when she raises her hand to shield them, she discovers that she is handcuffed to the bed. Furious, she starts to yank on the cuffs. Seeing that they won't budge, she reaches for the nurse call button. She is answered with the arrival of not only a nurse but an armed guard.
"What the fuck! Why am I handcuffed to this bed? I was the victim of a robbery! Why am I restrained?" The nurse and the guard exchange looks. "I said, why the fuck am I handcuffed!?" She jerks at the cuffs again. A tall African American man with a distinctive eye patch walks into the room.
"What do you want 'Nick Fury'?"
"How do you know my name?"
Mickie blinks. "Don't play with me! Who the fuck are you?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, got a mouth that could make a sailor cry there don't you? Now, you call me by my name and then you ask who I am?"
"Listen dickwad – I want – no I demand to know what is going on here! I was the victim here. I gave the asshole the money and he shot me anyway. I think I'm going to die and now I wake up here, cuffed to the bed like a common criminal and some 'Nick Fury', 'Avenger', 'Director of S.H.I.E.L.D.' looking piece of shit is refusing to answer my questions!"
The man tilts his head as if pondering his next words carefully.
"You say you were shot – where were you shot?"
"Right here!" Mickie points to her chest. There is no wound save for a small scar. "What the fuck?"
"Language"
"Language?" Mickie says incredulously. "I took a shotgun blast straight to the chest! I shouldn't even be alive! You tell me what is happening right now, or a few curse words won't be your only problem!"
The man looks at her intently. "I don't think you really know what is happening do you? I mean, you are legitimately confused here."
He turns and walks out of the room, followed by the nurse and the guard leaving Mickie alone in the room. She begins putting all her strength into getting out of the cuffs. She yanks harder and harder until they break free of the bed. She sees her clothes folded in a chair. She feels through the pockets and yes! Her cell phone is still there.
"Damn! No signal!" she says as she desperately spins around seeking to find the hospital Wi-Fi. Realizing she has very little time, she quickly dresses, shoves the phone in her pocket, flings open the door and runs straight into the chest of a tall blond man in a red, white and blue uniform.
She looks up into his pale blue eyes and gasps. "I'm dead, I'm dead" she mumbles and faints into his arms.
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She wakes up once again restrained. This time there is a stone-faced guard in the room. She looks around her environment. They have taken her clothes. She also realizes that her room has no window and there is no clock visible so not only does she not know how long she has been out, but she doesn't even know if it is day or night.
"Can you get me some water please?"
"Call the nurse." The guard answers in a cold husky voice.
"They took the call button and I'm thirsty, may I have some water please?"
"What are you?" the guard squints at her like she's some sort of insect he's intent on squashing.
"I beg your pardon?"
"How did you heal like that?"
"I must be in Hell. I have already determined that I died from my gunshot wound but I'm also strapped to a bed in a backless gown, my ass is hanging out, I'm thirsty and my only companion is some rent-a-cop." Mickie hangs her head in her hands.
"I am a S.H.I.E.L.D. officer." He says.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't real!" she shouts at him. "It's just a fantasy organization that came out of the minds of Marvel!"
"What is Marvel? Is that who you report to?"
Mickie blinks at his incredible stupidity. "You must be an idiot." She states.
"No need to be rude." Her mouth drops again as the man in the star-spangled uniform walks in.
"Yup! I'm dead. 'America's Ass' is in my hospital room. My roommate, Tiffany, would lose her shit if she could see what I'm seeing. Of course, I am more of a Loki fan. Tall, dark and dangerous is more my speed."
"So, you know Loki?" he asks her.
"Uh no, cause he's not real. None of this is real."
"But you've heard of him?"
"Of course! I'm a major fan of his web series. I can't wait until season 2."
"Web series?"
"You're in to the Captain America cosplay – and you're very good by the way – but you have no clue about the Loki series or how it's ushering in the new phase of the MCU? Oh well, you are portraying a dead man after all."
Anger sweeps across his face. "Is that a threat!?"
"Whoa dude! You do know that Captain America is a fictional character, right?" His facial expression becomes hard to read. "Right?" She feels a lump start to form in her throat. He walks over and sits down in the chair next to her bed. The guard appears to go on high alert.
"What's the last thing you remember?" he asks gently.
"I was working in Hassan's bodega at the counter when this guy, dressed all in black in a ski mask, ran in with a shotgun and demanded everything I had in the register. I did what he said!" Tears formed in her eyes. "He shot me anyway." She sobbed. "Point blank in the chest. I remember people around me, a jumble of voices. I was dying, oh God! Am I dead?" She looks at him pleading.
"No, you're not dead."
"Then explain to me what is going on!"
"I'll be right back." He pats her on the hand, rises and turns to leave the room.
"No!" she shouts after him. "Don't leave me with the gargoyle!"
He gives her a small reassuring smile and walks out.
