Silver Linings

Chapter 2

It was around dawn when the girl began to wake up. She groaned, wondering why her head hurt so badly. Opening her eyes, she forced herself to sit up, the leather jacket falling off and to the side. She frowned, looking around slowly as she adjusted the black-rimmed glasses on her face. Was she in a...plane?
   
Looking forward, she saw no one in the cockpit, which meant she was alone in this odd looking plane. And although she wanted to go home before whoever it was that took her here came back, a part of her just wanted to talk to someone again, and sober, too. Besides, it seemed like whoever had found her lived in this plane. This had to be interesting. She looked about a bit closer, despite the throbbing in her head, and noticed the fading red symbol on the ceiling.
   
Whoever had found her was a Hydra agent? She clapped a hand over her mouth, fear gripping her heart. With her other hand, she played with the locket around her neck nervously.
   
She forced herself to take a few deep breaths, lowering her hand from her mouth slowly. If he really was one, she wouldn't have woken up in a battered old plane, alone. Besides, the plane door was open. Hydra agents wouldn't leave a prisoner alone.
   
Calming down a bit, she looked around a little more before her eyes landed on the cardboard box next to the blanket she sat upon. She was curious. Perhaps this could answer some questions? Peering inside, she reached her hand into the box, taking the photo out. Flipping it over, she saw the odd looking family, and she wondered who this could belong to. A man appeared in the doorway of the plane, holding a plastic bag.
   
"Don't touch that!" He roared, stepping inside. He was scowling, like at any second he would just pounce on her. Startled, she jumped, and quickly put the photo back, looking up at him with her wide green eyes.
   
"I-I-I'm sorry, sir..." She stammered, scooting backward a bit as he stormed toward her. But instead of hitting her like she thought, he grabbed the cardboard box and brought it to the cockpit, mumbling something under his breath. With his back to her, he took a few deep breaths, closing his eyes, before turning around and walking back slowly.
   
"I shouldn't have shouted at you." He placed the plastic bag on the ground, pressing his lips together into a tight line. Her own face softened as she studied his; the bags under his eyes were terribly dark, and he was so pale he looked almost translucent. "My name's N...Calvin," he said quietly, a deep contrast from only a moment before. He sat down slowly, and held out a gloved hand. The girl wasn't so afraid anymore. She blinked and shook his hand.
  
"My name is Iris." She had a slight English accent that had been weathered down with time. She adjusted her glasses a bit before handing the leather jacket back. He stared at it for a moment before taking it back, shrugging it on. "Forgive me if I am intruding too much, but...do you live here?"
   
"...Yes, I do." Calvin saw no point in lying to the girl. He knew she was different. What exactly it was, he wasn't sure, but he knew that even though he wouldn't ever see her again, she deserved the truth.
   
"I see." Iris had a certain look about her, that revealed that even though, on a quick glance, she looked around eighteen, she was very mature. She pursed her lips, not in disgust, but in pity. Calvin cleared his throat and took two apples from the plastic bag, offering one to her. She accepted it, and they both took bites from their fruit, chewing in the awkward silence. "Thank you," she said softly, after a few minutes.
   
He looked at her, nodding lightly. "I wasn't just going to leave you there so you could freeze. I wouldn't be surprised if you had hypothermia." She blinked. She only remembered bits and pieces, and the knife came back to her. She swallowed.
   
"How...much did you see?" She asked cautiously, staring at him with slight fear in her eyes. No one had ever known about her abilities, no one except for family. Calvin was silent for a,, moment.
   
"Enough," he replied finally, staring down at his lap. She let out a breath slowly, shutting her eyes. "Don't feel too bad. I'm-" He was cut off by a loud bang, and he was on his feet in seconds, fully alert. "Shit," he muttered, peeking out of the plane door as Iris stood up slowly, staring at him. He knew it was only a matter of time before they found him.
   
"What is going on?" She asked carefully, and he glanced at her over his shoulder. Yelling could be heard outside.
   
"Listen to me." He took a deep breath. "There are terrible people outside; we're under attack. You have to get back to your home." She tried to protest, but he held a hand up, and she realized this was his fight. She bit her bottom lip and studied him. A constant loud bang could be heard from the back of the plane. She could only assume they were shots, probably from another plane. "On the count of three, I'll create a distraction. You run." He was taking off his gloves. She nodded. "One, two, three!"
   
Both of them hopped out of the plane, and Iris ran, glancing over her shoulder every few moments. And while she didn't want to leave him to fend for herself, she couldn't face her fear of Hydra. So she darted through the streets back to her apartment.

Calvin thrust his bare hands in the direction of the agents, purple mist swirling toward them at a fast pace. He was relieved to see that his mother had decided against coming that time. A bullet or two embedded itself into his side, but all he did was clench his jaw and concentrate. The mist encircled the men and they coughed, holding their throats, before crumpling to the snow-covered ground, lifeless. His plane chose that moment to burst into flame.
   
Calvin shouted a string of curses and ran into the plane, quickly grabbing the cardboard box before the flames could touch it. As he stepped out, the plane was completely engulfed. He was just lucky to not have been set ablaze.
Clutching the box close to his chest, he walked over to the other Hydra plane, finding it completely empty.  It seemed he had taken care of all of the agents, for now. He knew he couldn't stay here. And blood gushed from his side. He knew he had to treat that, and soon. He started walking, holding his side with his free hand. He was just glad Iris had gotten away safely.

He walked into the city, covering as much of the blood as he could, and no one really looked at him twice. It would be easier to hide in the city than his old plane, but he was still weary of it. It brought back bad memories, and it was too loud and crowded for his taste. Even though the sun had only just risen about an hour prior, the streets were crowded with people bustling down the street and cars beeping. He wove through them, not really sure where he was headed, but knowing he had to apply pressure to his wounds.

Once he was satisfied that he had gotten far enough in the city, about an hour later, he ducked into an empty alleyway and collapsed against the wall, his chest rising and falling quickly. He had begun to feel really light headed. He knew he shouldn't have walked so much, but it would be worth it as long as he wasn't found by her.

Calvin looked down at his wound, inspecting it closely for the first time. Blood soaked through his shirt, and even onto his jacket. He could see a small, metal piece still embedded into the wound. Slowly, he shrugged off the leather jacket, wincing, and pressed it to his wound, trying to stop any further bleeding. He knew he had to get the piece of the bullet out, but there was no way he could, safely. He'd just have to make do. He leaned his head against the wall, staring up at the clouded sky, feeling drowsy.
He tried fighting it. He had to. If he closed his eyes now, he might never wake up again. As the thought went through his head, though, it didn't seem so bad. Maybe even welcoming. He let his eyes fall closed, slowly, his grip on the jacket loosening slightly.

He could hear distinct voices outside; people talking to loved ones, or on the phone, or yelling at people to move. They were fading farther and farther away.

"C'mon, Thomas, I think I might have left it down-" A girl's voice, coming closer. She gasped. "Oh my gosh! I think he's hurt! We have to help him!"

"You grab his things." An older boy's voice was the last thing Calvin heard before he felt himself being lifted up, and he fell unconscious.