Special Touch Part: Three

Chapter Seven

"You want to tell me what the hell that was about, L/n?"

You were in front of the council hours later, answering for your crime.

Like old times.

"I was shown what would happen by Amanda still-don't-know-her-last-name, the illusionist SHIELD so blatantly decided to trust," You raised your eyebrows, your curious eyes going from Fury who asked the question to the rest of them, "And once I found it to be a trap, laid down for the purpose of killing or breaking me as well as slaughtering agents, I...took matters into my own hands."

The council seemed to be surprised by how you were behaving yourself this time and even though they found it refreshing, you found it downright infuriating. You were picking at your nails under the table, a tack stabbing into your palm every time you wanted to scream at them, and maybe the others were right, maybe you did have a bit of an anger management problem.

"You have no proof." One piped in and you had to physically stop your eyes from glowing as they snapped to him.

"True." You offered instead and they shifted in their seat, uncomfortable by your stare.

"But you've done more good than bad for SHIELD and-"

"Has she?" Someone else cut Fury off and he leaned forward to eye them down.

"Don't interrupt me," He warned before sitting back, looking to you again, "But you're not protected or trusted by SHIELD because you refuse to become a part of this organization."

"Again, true." You nodded, a bit of impatience in your tone.

"I take fault in this as well because I recommended you for this mission," He continued and you grimaced, forgetting that small detail, "So, I'll be the one making sure you follow your temporary house arrest starting this Monday."

"My what now?" You scoffed in disbelief, turning your head to the side a bit as you kept your eyes on him, "Fury, I don't-"

"Director." He corrected, not wanting the casualty to be shown in front of the other council members.

"This feels extreme."

"You're lucky your funding will continue." Another one shook their head, obviously not one of the ones who voted on that little detail.

"Wait, I-"

"You're dismissed," Fury waved you off, adamant on not letting this discussion continue further before he added, "And I'll be at your place six o'clock Monday morning to give you your anklet."

"How long is temporary?" You gritted out and he narrowed his eyes, noticing the gold swirling in your irises, but not mentioning it.

"Until we deem you fit to walk the streets of New York freely again."

Don't kill them, don't kill them, don't kill them.

"Fair enough." You forced out, feeling a bit uncomfortable as you started to sweat.

"Are you alright, L/n?" Fury asked as you stood, his voice friendlier compared to its previous formal tone, and you looked down to see your palms were still bleeding, but a moment later, you healed them.

You smiled up at him as you wiped the dried blood on your pants and it didn't go unnoticed, but at the time, you didn't think twice about it.

"Yep, just peachy, Director," You saluted them before turning to walk out the door, calling back, "See you Monday, bright and early!"

Natasha had been in a meeting with agent Hill and the agents who were on the mission with you, basically to write up their witness reports, so you took the time to duck into a bathroom.

You gripped the edge of the sink and tried to calm your breathing, wondering why you would even consider ending someone's life over something as simple as quarantining you in your own home. It wasn't like they were locking you away from the world or forcing you to work for them, it was just your house. You could have your friends over, you had Ollie for company, and it would be nice to just have some time to yourself to relax.

So, why did you still have the urge to march back into that room and end half of a dozen lives within seconds?

And why was Fury even on that list?

You thought you had gone off the deep end with Andrew Logan – cabin guy – but you had pulled yourself out of that blinding rage...right? You had moved on, everything was going smoothly, and sure, some random illusionist might've thrown a dead fly in your soup, but you took care of it.

Your stomach growled painfully loud, and you put a hand over it, forgetting you hadn't eaten today. You took a deep breath, washed your hands, splashed some cold water on your face, and then left the room to find some food.

Once you made it to the kitchen, you felt even warmer and decided to ditch your top since you had worn a sports bra underneath for your run later with Natasha. You considered ditching your trousers too as you downed the pitcher of ice-cold lemonade from the fridge, in search of something more solid, but you didn't know who could walk in and it wasn't your house, so you pushed that idea out of your mind.

"Shit, you alright?" Sam asked, coming into the room, and you took comfort in the fact that he was drenched in sweat as well, just having come from a workout.

"Thirsty." You gasped as you set the now empty pitcher in the sink and began filling it with water instead.

"Yeah, I um, I see that," His voice held humor, but his eyes followed you with worry, "Did you just come from your run or...?"

"Council meeting." You told him after shaking your head and his concern only grew.

"Maybe I should call Banner..."

"No, I'm fine," You brushed it off, finishing half the pitcher, and then going to make a sandwich, "Promise."

You were taking out the bread, initially going for two slices, but with how hungry you felt you ended up taking eight, and the second he noticed, he pulled his phone out to text someone.

"Did someone crank the heat up in here?" You sighed irritably, wiping the sweat from your forehead on the back of your hand and then going to take a break from assembling your sandwiches to wash your hands under the cold water, muttering to yourself, "Fuck, that feels good."

A sharp pain pierced your middle and you cried out before falling to the floor on your knees, bracing yourself on your free hand so you broke your fall some.

"Y/n!" He called out, but his voice was echoey, rushing around the counter, and crouched next to you, his hand going around your back, "Oh my god, Y/n," Then he mumbled, "Hurry the hell up, doc."

Your powers weren't healing you of whatever was happening and that shot panic through your heart, thinking that maybe whatever was happening was out of your control.

Black spots clouded your vision and you felt him pick you up, but you were soon falling unconscious.