sparrow // mcu

chapter 4 - the doubt

The room was grey.

So far as she'd seen, Will's entire base was grey, from floor to ceiling to furniture. Even the clothes they'd given her were grey. The only colour she'd seen so far was the HYDRA logo someone had painted over SHIELD's eagle on the wall outside mission control. The red paint had still been drying as she'd walked past, dripping down the wall and pooling on the floor below like blood. Like the eagle was bleeding, she'd thought in passing, an involuntary shiver running down her spine.

This particular HYDRA base was little more than an oversized bunker, built for functionality over comfort. Most everyone who walked down its halls were suited up in full tac gear and carrying an array of weapons, on their way to and from various missions. There were no offices here, no places to relax after a hard training session or a long stint in the field. There was debrief and mission control and a row of dorms and not much else.

Imogen had been given a quick tour. Command, gun range, weapons storage, mess hall, living quarters. They'd directed her to a room and told her on no uncertain terms to stay put. Impressively, she'd listened, and as a result had wasted away hours upon hours just lying on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. At first, she'd managed to drift in and out of sleep, tired from the whole thing with Clint – with Hawkeye – but sleep was long gone now, and instead she lay wide awake rolling his words over and over in her head.

SHIELD or HYDRA.

Pick one.

It bugged her that the question was still there, looming, unanswered. That he'd gotten inside her head and made her question everything; that she hadn't had the guts to lift her chin and proudly tell him that HYDRA was her choice. That HYDRA had given her everything she had, and she wouldn't just betray them for it. Most of all, it bugged her that it bugged her. Anyone else would just let it go, move on, leave him for the wolves of HYDRA to feast on (this whole base was focused on finding and killing Clint Barton, so far as she knew. He wouldn't live long now). But here she was, still trying to convince herself that her place was still with HYDRA.

She needed to get out of this room, before it drove her crazy.

As soon as the temptation found her, Imogen couldn't lie still any longer. It was a miracle she had lasted this long at all; patience was a virtue flung far out of her reach. With a deep sigh, she sat up and then stood, stretching out muscles that were still aching from their abuse the day before. It was a satisfying feeling. She was cautious going out the door, though there was no one outside to catch her sneaking out, making it all too easy to wind her way through to a main thoroughfare and blend into the traffic.

Where to go? To Will? She didn't know or recognise anyone else on this base, nor did she want to. Anyone who knew her would screw up their nose and move quickly in the other direction. People found her repulsive like that; no one had ever really taken a shine to her (her parents were a possible exception, but she had no memories to compare). She'd been born to turn people away.

She shook her head, just a little. To Will, then.

Her brother was in the mess hall, sitting at a crowded table with the small team he'd lead against Clint. They were eating bowls of soup, and laughing at a joke one of them had just told. He spotted her mid-laugh, spoon halfway to his mouth, and dropped everything immediately, excusing himself as he stood up and left the table. He met her in the middle of the room, and pulled her over to one side, where there were less people to hear them.

"What are you doing, Imogen?" he asked with a frown.

She shrugged. "I'm bored, Will. I can't sit in that room all day; you know that."