The Snapshot {An Agents of Shield Fanficton} [1]

Everything

I watched his eyes open. So wide I could see the whites of his eyes. I couldn't hear anything but I saw him gasp and look around frantically. He slowly settled back down and surveyed himself. Almost instantly he started tugging at the restraints. He strained and his arm muscles flexed, but to no avail. I saw him grimace and pull some more. When he saw that it was no use, he stopped and stared at the ceiling.

His eyes were squeezed shut and his face set in a basic overall grimace, like he was trying to wish it all away. Then I felt it again. I felt was he was feeling. I turned away. It was hard to watch him struggle. To feel his helplessness. I just wanted to bust in there and tell him everything was going to be ok. But in reality, it wasn't. He would have to pay for what he did either way.

I waited a few moments until I glanced back at the screen. He was motionless now. I flinched when Coulson touched my shoulder. He handed me a portable mike, which I clipped to my shirt.

"You know what to do."

I looked at him and he motioned to the door. I nodded and walked towards it.

I reached for the handle but I hesitated and looked back at Coulson. He gave me a reassuring nod. I turned back to the door and opened it, stepping in and closing it behind me.

~•~

I stood there beside the door, looking at him. He didn't move or say anything. He didn't even look at me.

I swallowed and took a step towards him. I saw a chair was beside the monitor that I hadn't noticed before. I took the final steps to the chair and stopped. He was propped up to where I was still a bit taller, but as I sat down I sank further.

He still didn't look at me. He eyes were focused somewhere in the corner of the room. Maybe nowhere at all. He had this 100 yard stare, like the ones veterans have after they come back from war. It's like a scar on the mind.

I could see his face. It was blank and expressionless, save for the overall look of plain sadness. His eyebrows were slightly bunched like he was bracing for what was to come. I could also see his jaw was set and his fingers gripped the side of the restraints. His body language told all, but I still didn't feel connected with him, unlike other times I had read people.

I was on his eye level. But he still wouldn't look at me. I sighed.

"Hello," I said.

No response.

"How are you feeling?," I said again.

Still no response.

I paused. "Fine."

There was only one way to do this. And Coulson wouldn't like it. I took the microphone off my shirt and switched the off button. I could almost feel the other's protests.

I took the microphone and placed it in his hand. He turned his head to look at it, but still wouldn't look at me.

"It's just you and me now," I said.

He just stared at his hand.

"Look at me." I said.

He slowly averted his eyes to mine. I read his face clearly. He looked slightly shocked and opened his mouth to speak, but closed it.

I raised my eyebrows. "You were saying?"

He frowned. "You're the girl with the rainbow eyes," he said almost in a whisper.

I nodded. "I told you I was like you."

He looked slightly relived. He looked down then back up. "What do you want?," he said quietly.

I answered truthfully. "To help you."

"Why?," he said, his voice a raspy whisper.

"Because my specialty is seeing through people, and I know you aren't what they tell me to be," I said. "I need you to listen to me. SHIELD? They're not bad. They have good intentions. But something isn't right. That's why I'm here. I need to know what happened when you were first brought in."

He shook his head repeatedly. "No. No, you don't understand," he said, his voice shaking. He gripped and twisted the hand restraints.

"What? I don't understand what?," I said.

"They...they said...if...if I ever said anything that they'd...." He stuttered.

"What? Whose they?"

"No." He said louder. He looked straight into my face. "You don't understand!"

I stood up and took a few steps until I was in front of him.

"I do. I do understand. But you know who doesn't? The people outside watching us on video feed. If I can't make it through to you and prove something, you'll be sent right back there. To be processed."

He flinched at that word. I stopped. I was right about something.

I walked back to the chair and sat down. He stared at his feet.

"Peter," I said.

"Nobody's called me that in a while," he said.

"I can help you. I really can. But no one else wants to. I believe you. I know what it's like to have powers you don't understand. But you have to talk to me. There's no other way," I said.

He hesitated, but then nodded. "What's your name?"

"Lucy."

"What do you want to know, Lucy?"

"Everything."