It's already getting dark as I make my way back to headquarters, watching the last rays of sunlight slowly disappearing over the horizon. The meeting with Sam did me good, and even though I couldn't bring myself to tell him what's going on, he managed to take my mind off things for a few hours. Now, I'm just looking forward to my room, a shower, and a book. I'm only a few minutes away from the headquarters when I get a call. Steve's name lights up on the screen, and I grimace. If he's calling me at this hour, it can't be good.
I pick up the call, just about to say "Hey Captain," when he cuts me off. "Elora, get to the hospital right now!" he shouts into the phone, and I can hear him running. What the hell? I don't waste any time and start running myself. So much for my evening of reading. "What happened?" I ask Steve, who still hasn't hung up, as I turn one corner after another, nearly getting hit by a car as I ignore a red light. The streets of Washington are full of people, and I try to get through the crowd as fast as I can without getting trampled.
"Fury's been shot. He's in surgery," Steve says quickly before hanging up. Okay, I did not expect that, and it's really not good. An attack on Fury is an attack on S.H.I.E.L.D, and therefore an attack on us. I knew the quietness of the past few days felt odd, but of course, no one listens to me. Right now, I wish more than ever that I had the powers of the Super Soldier Serum so I could get there faster.
Five minutes later, I arrive at the hospital and immediately spot some S.H.I.E.L.D agents running around in chaos, giving orders, and even some armed S.T.R.I.K.E. team members are present. I quickly spot Nat in the middle of it all, and she rushes towards me. I'm still completely out of breath from my little sprint. "Who shot him?" she asks, clearly upset. Oh, my dear, how I wish I knew, but we'll find out. Who was it? Where's Steve? Is he hurt too? Did he see who it was?
Those questions have to wait, and I can only manage a quiet "I don't know" in response to Nat's question. We show our IDs at the reception desk and are led to a room. Steve is standing in front of a glass window, watching the surgery. Oh my God... Fury is hooked up to tubes everywhere, and there are countless monitors attached to his body. I cover my mouth with my hand, eyes wide with shock as I look at his body, which seems far too lifeless. We stand there for a few minutes, just trying to process it all. I walk up to the glass window, and Nat follows, albeit a bit slower.
"Tell us about the shooter," I say quietly to Steve once I've managed to process the initial shock. He takes a deep breath in and out. "I don't know who he was," he says, lowering his gaze for a moment. "He's fast, strong, has a metal arm."
Metal arm.
Flashback
It was August 13, 2012, and I was driving down a deserted road near Odessa late at night. It was quiet. Not a soul in sight. I was tired but kept my eyes focused on the road; I still needed to find a place to stay for the night. Suddenly, the sound of a gunshot rang out, and my right front tire exploded. The car spun out of control, veering off the road, and I rolled over, hitting my head. It was a miracle I didn't pass out or lose the ability to think altogether. "Ahh, shit," I muttered, gingerly touching my forehead and seeing blood on my hand. I hadn't even noticed the deep cut on my upper arm, but it was bleeding profusely, and everything I tried to grab slipped through my fingers. My vision kept blurring, and I thought I was going to die here. No one ever comes this way. No one will find me. No one will look for me.
Suddenly, my car door was ripped off and thrown aside. I gasped, barely able to breathe. The next moment, I was yanked out of the car and thrown onto the ground. Gasping for air, I propped myself up on my arms. Everything hurt, my vision kept fading, probably a concussion. Then I looked up. There he was. About 1.80m tall, dressed in black leather, wearing a black mask that covered his mouth and nose, black goggles, and a metal arm with a red star on the shoulder. I had no idea who he was, but I knew one thing for sure: this would be my end. I was going to die tonight. I tried to use my powers, but at that exact moment, they failed me. He aimed a gun at me. Even though I couldn't see his eyes through the goggles, I had the feeling his gaze was burning into my skin. I looked down, squeezing my eyes shut as a wave of pain and nausea washed over me. I didn't need to see him kill me.
Minutes passed, but the shot never came. I looked up at him again, and then he lowered the gun. Why wasn't he killing me?
I slowly lost consciousness, and even though I may have imagined it, I could have sworn I heard him say my name before I slipped into darkness. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. "A concussion, a laceration on your head, a deep cut on your arm, a minor kidney bruise, and several contusions, but nothing broken," the doctor had told me. He said these injuries were consistent with a car accident, but the people who found me said they found me in an alley. To this day, I still don't know how I got there.
I've met him before, and he spared me. "Are you okay, Elora? You look really pale," I hear Nat ask beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I can hear the worry in her voice; the last thing we need is another incident tonight. I blink a few times quickly and look over at Nat, who's studying me closely. Almost instinctively, I touch the long scar on my right upper arm. It will always remind me that this really happened. "What? Oh yeah, I'm fine, it's just all a bit much," I try to reply as convincingly as possible to ease her worries, even though this woman can see through the obvious lie right away. Steve doesn't seem convinced either.
"What does ballistics say?" I ask Maria, who has just entered the room, hoping to shift the focus away from me. "Three bullets to the torso, no rifling marks," she replies briefly. Interesting. Now I know where my attacker back then came from. "Soviet," I say, glancing at Fury again. Maria makes an agreeing sound. "That's what we fear, yes," she confirms. But why the attack? Why on Fury? Sure, he's the director of S.H.I.E.L.D, but there are bigger targets than him. What's the interest in taking him out? What are we missing? This is way too many unanswered questions for me to handle. At that moment, I hear the machines beeping, and my gaze snaps toward Fury. The monitor shows no heart rate. The doctors rush around, trying to revive him with a defibrillator, but their efforts are in vain.
Fury is dead.
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Oh oh oh, what's going on here? I'd say hello, Winter Soldier ;) Fury is dead *wink wink*, and Steve, Nat, and Elora are faced with another mystery.
How did you like Elora's little encounter with him? I really wanted to add some kind of backstory and connection between the two, even if she doesn't know who he is yet.
What do you think stopped her from using her powers against him?
Until next time! <3
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Who the hell am I (english version)
FanfictionUPDATES EVERY DAY AT 5 PM! She remembers nothing. Where did she come from? What happened? How did she get here? Where is her family? In short: she doesn't know. For two years, Elora has wandered, never staying in one place for long. Always searching...
