TOXIC ~ STEVE ROGERS [1]

Chapter Eight

I was already awake when I heard the knocking on the door. I sat on the end of the bed, headphones in, music blasting loud enough I didn't have to think about the dreams that had slaughtered my sleep.

"Hello? I've got some breakfast for you!" Simmons said enthusiastically, shutting the door with her hip. I pulled my headphones out and thanked her. She placed the tray on the small table. I waited for her to leave, but instead she stood, waiting with an unnaturally big grin on her face.

"What?" I said, rather rudely.

"I'm sorry, I can't hold it any longer! We've got the results back from all your tests! After you eat we'll head to the lab and tell you!" She squealed.

"You need to get out more," I muttered, digging into the French toast on the tray. I finished, and grabbing my jacket, followed her out the door. I forced myself to step a few places behind her, and I actively avoided anyone who got in my way. I was dangerous, and without control over whatever it was that I did, who knew who could get hurt.

I pretended I wasn't that bothered, that I wasn't that interested in the results. I remained calm and collected on the outside.
But inside I was screaming.

We reached the lab, and walked inside to meet Fitz. He was holding a bunch of papers, and I glimpsed my name and picture on the front. Keight Walsh,  African orphan and former art student. A believable story.

"You can sit, if you want," Simmons patted a chair, and I sat on it. I fiddled with my fingers, cracking the knuckles and rubbing them together. Fitz tapped on a big screen, bringing up a diagram of what I assumed was my body.

"We've discovered from yesterday's tests that in the last few weeks your DNA has rapidly changed. This was probably the cause of all your symptoms and nausea." Simmons said. I shook my head.

"Look, I'm not scientist but someones DNA can't just change like that, can it?" I asked uncertainly.

"Well, apparently it can. We found a chemical in you blood, that is now a major part of your DNA strands. What odd is that, well, we're not sure how it got there," Fitz explained.

"What's the chemical?" I asked.

"Well that's the thing. From what we can tell about it, it's a plant chemical. It looks like it might be from a flower, or something. Do you know of anything in Africa that could have, I don't know, touched you?" Simmons asked. She looked at me waiting for an answer, but I was lost in my own mind, in my own memories.

I am in pain. Immense pain. My body is being jostled and jiggled around, and every movement sparks another scream from my mouth.
My back is on fire.
My eyes are open, but I don't see anything. Just darkness, thick jungle around me. I am lifted up, carried on something strong and bendy. Leaves brush my hands that hang lifelessly from where I am. Voices bombard my ears, frantic whispers and harsh yelling. All of a sudden, I am not surrounded by jungle, but by white walls and stinging white lights. I am set into something hard and cold, lying on my stomach.
I am on fire.
"Where is my daughter!?" My father yells, his voice not the diplomatic, strong one he usually uses, but weak, at breaking point. I can't see, my face sideways on the metal bench, moans coming from my mouth.
"There is not much hope. She has lost too much blood," Someone says in my native language.
"Bring out the Umnikeli," my father says.
"But, it could kill her! The legends say-"
"I do not care for the legends! I care for my daughter! Give it to her!" My father yells. There is scrambling. I feel myself begin to fade. I feel a small prick in my left inner elbow. Something is poured over my back, and I scream in agony before I gratefully pass out into oblivion.

"Heart Shaped Herb" I muttered to myself.

"What did you say?" Fitz said.

"Uh, nothing. There's rumors and legends about plants that could heal and give power, but I wouldn't know what they were, and I don't believe in legends." I twisted my fingers around.
"I must have touched something while I was, uh, doing some work. But I never believed the stories."

"That's completely unbelievable," Simmons said in awe.

"Yeah well, it's unbelievable you found Captain America alive in the ice, but it happened," I retorted.

"How do you know about that?" Fitz exclaimed.

"I, uh, hear things," I said, mentally slapping myself for being so careless.

"It makes sense. Everything makes sense, yet it is so unbelievably unbelievable," Simmons said, looking through her notes.

"Yes, I think we established the fact that it's unbelievable," I snarked.
"But that doesn't explain how I killed someone, does it? My DNA changed, great. Now how did I manage to decapitate a man without touching him?" Fitzsimmons stared at me.

"Well, we believe that your body absorbs toxins, bacteria, viruses, anything potential harmful and turns them into a toxic energy, which is directed and released from your hands," Simmons replied.

"So, I'm a walking ball of poison?" I said, sighing.

"Well, not technically, but yes," Fitz replied.

"That's just great. How do you fix it?" I asked, leaning forward in the chair. Fitzsimmons exchanged a concerned glance, than looked back at me.

"We can't."

"What do you mean you can't fix it?" I said in shock.

"It's a permanent change in your DNA. It's impossible to reverse," Simmons said sympathetically. I sat back in the chair, twisting and rubbing my knuckles together.

"So what happens now?" I said blankly.

"We, uh," Simmons looked at Fitz awkwardly. "We want to see if you can do it again. We want to record how much energy you omit. If that's alright," Simmons said uncertainly.

"Fine," I replied.

"You also have heightened senses and enhanced strength, speed and agility, although that doesn't seem to have anything to do with the plant chemical. It might be something to do with the odd strand of DNA I found-"

"That's great, just wonderful," I interrupted him sarcastically, getting up from the chair.

"If you'll, uh, just come with me, we can try and recreate your abilities," Simmons said, her pretty eyes lowered. I felt a twinge of guilt. It wasn't her fault she had to tell me I was cursed for the rest of my life, or that I could possibly hurt more people.

It was my fault for arguing with my parents that night. For running out into the jungle, for slashing and cutting at the leaves in anger.
For thinking the men that found me were good.

Authors Note
So now we know what Keight can do!
I include Fitz and Simmons in there because I love Agents of SHIELD and Fitz is my favorite character. I feel like they needed to be involved somehow, like May.
Enjoy