Epiphany

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"And some things you just can't speak about..."

"So are you going to tell me what this place is?" Joaquin finally asks, the two of you aboard a small utility truck on a winding road that seems to never end.

You sigh, the memory painfully prodding at the forefront of your consciousness. "This is where Nick Fury found me."

"Oh. This is where you...?" he trails off, momentarily looking away from the winding road to finish his question with silent insinuation.

"Yeah," you solemnly nod. You continue looking out the window, watching the scenery pass you by. The trees grow more sparse as you continue on down the unpaved, lonely road. The trees that remain standing look grey, sickly, as they slowly wither to nothing. "Spent 25 years in there."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," you say, offering him a tight smile. Even though you were normally an open book, you could never really bring yourself to speak about the horrors you'd faced in that time in your life. You don't explain any further, instead you half-heartedly chuckle, "You can probably tell why I didn't want to come back here."

"But you need answers?" Joaquin finishes.

"Exactly." You determinedly nod, finally turning back to look at him. You manage a grin, superficial excitement lacing your voice, "So here we are!"

"You sure you can do this? Sam'll kill me if you get hurt."

You ignore the remark about Sam, instead answering Joaquin's worries, "Yeah, I can handle it."

"Are you sure?"

"You worry too much, Joaquin," you chuckle.

Even as the chuckles leaves your mouth, a vague sense of dread and unease trail down your spine. Maybe you weren't paying attention, but the clouds are suddenly a menacing gray, dimming the once bright blue sky.

A grey overcast settles over the entire landscape like color has been drained from existence and anything remotely akin to joy has died. As though the universe knows that the place you're approaching is forsaken, a place where poor souls came and never left.

The wind is stale, but the cold continues to bite at your skin, your breath visible with each deep, semi-calming exhale.

And maybe you're onto something because the second you take your eyes off the eerie sky, you see the building. It's nothing more than a small silhouette on the horizon, but it's enough for your blood to run cold. You feel a chill run through you, but this time it isn't in passing, it radiates from within you. In your peripheral, you see Joaquin shudder and pull his zipper all the way up to his throat. But you know a jacket won't appease the icy feeling settling from within.

You watch as the tall, barbed wire fences approach on the horizon. You take another deep breath, pushing down all the memories of a life spent in captivity that you wanted nothing more than to forget.

"Are you gonna be able to...?" Joaquin insinuates, using his wild, playfully gestures to mimic your abilities.

His playfully imitation of your ability causes a sense of bittersweet nostalgia to rise in your throat. It reminds of your time with Sam and the many times he used to do the same thing. It reminds you of your time on the Avengers Compound, now completely destroyed. You shake away the sadness, focusing on the gates that get bigger and more menacing with each passing second. "I'm guessing you never heard about what I did to Steve's shield that one time?"

"No!" he exclaims. "What did you do?"

"Story for another time," you mutter, finally arriving at the gates of a hellhole you never wanted to return to. As the car comes to a slow halt, it occurs to you that you've never really seen the building before, not the gate, not the security posts. You don't really know any of it except the one room you were confined to. You step out of the car, the gravel crunching underneath your feet as the gate looms a few feet in front of you. "Just wait here. Keep an eye out for me."

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