Ghost - An Avengers Fanfiction

Chapter 6

She's awake.

Clint blinked as his brain processed this fact. Then quick as a flash, he had grabbed his hand gun and a jacket and was jogging down the hall. Larson raced after Clint as he shrugged on his dark blue S.H.I.E.L.D. - issue jacket and slid his hand gun into the holster on his leg. Larson fell into step beside Clint as the two of them moved quickly through the maze of hallways. "The girl is meant to be in surgery for another few hours. What happened?" Clint quizzed the young agent. Larson shrugged.

"I don't really know sir. I was checking on Hartwig and Jones in the medical unit and next thing it was panic. Agent Hill secured the situation. She moved the girl to one of the interrogation rooms in Sector D. When we couldn't reach you through the comms, she sent me to retrieve you."

Clint nodded, then broke into a run. Larson raced to keep up, but Clint lost sight of him after a few seconds. He slid to a stop outside of the main interrigation room and was about to push the door open when a familiar face appeared. Agent Maria Hill opened the door and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. Clint was taller than her by a few inches, but she easily held his attention with her cool gaze. 

"Where have you been?" she asked tensely. Clint paused, before replying calmly.

"I was under the impression that the girl would be in surgery for a few more hours. I didn't think she would be conscious till tomorrow. That isn't really the issue right now. What damage has she done?" Maria breathed deeply, her shoulders relaxing from their tense position. Clint had always liked Maria as an agent, and the two had shared a bond based on mutual respect and professionalism since they had first met. Maria had been finding it hard to fully trust Clint since he had acted as Loki's puppet six months ago, but she still made an effort to treat Clint respectfully, and Clint appreciated that. He was constantly aware of the stares and whispers that followed him around S.H.I.E.L.D.

"She hasn't actually done anything. She was under anesthetic in the surgery, and according to the doctors, she just sat up as they were taking the last few bits of glass out. The only thing she said to them was that she was fine. She then just sat there until we brought her in here. There's something else.... something you should see." Maria turned and opened the door behind her, then motioned for Clint to follow her. They both entered the darkened room and stood in front of the large pane of one-way glass that looked into the brightly lit interrogation room. The interrogation room contained a large, metal table, which was bolted to the floor, two metal chairs and the Ghost Thief.

Clint frowned as he looked at the girl who was sitting at the metal table.She was only wearing a black singlet and pair of black bike shorts, making the paleness of her skin stand out. Her long black hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, her fringe tucked behind her ear. Her dark blue eyes were staring absently at her hands, which were cuffed to the table with S.H.I.E.L.D.'s newest prototype handcuffs, called Ironbands. Her slim shoulders were motionless, the only real indication the girl wasn't frozen was her steady breathing. The only thing that really stood out about her was the angry red lines that marked most of her face, standing out against her pale skin. Clint realised, his stomach lurching, that they were scars from the glass bottle he had smashed over the girl's face.

"Once the doctors took the glass out, her skin just started healing. She didn't even require a blood transfusion, despite immense blood loss. Dr Michaels has told me that her injuries appear to be months old, even though it's only been a few hours. He believes she might not even be left with any scarring. The girl hasn't said a word about it." Maria's voice filled the silence of the small, dark room. Clint's eyes continued to study the girl's face through the one-way glass, his mind processing this new information.

"So she has some kind of regenerative or healing ability as well." Clint mused. Maria nodded.

"It's the only explanation." She replied, before handing a computer tablet to Clint. He swiped his hand over the screen and a folder with the words "GHOST THIEF" popped up. He spent a minute browsing the folder, skipping past the information he already knew and scanning through the small amount of information they had gained since apprehending the girl, including the doctor's basic report and a list of personal items found on the girl. Aside from her clothing and her backpack, she had a handful of small weapons, including knives and hand guns, and a bottle of water, but nothing else. Clint guessed she had kept her bag empty to ensure plenty of room for the goods she was planning to steal from Stark Tower.

Clint shut the folder he was looking at and turned to the door at the side of the room that connected the viewing room to the interrogation room. Maria cleared her throat, drawing his attention. "I'm going to be the one to talk to her first." she stated firmly. Clint frowned and shook his head.

"Hill, this has been my case for months. I'm the one who brought her in. I'll be the one to interrogate her." he responded indignantly.

Maria hesitated, her eyes studying Clint's face. Then she stepped forward. "This girl is alone and probably scared. You are the one who smashed a bottle on her skull. Before you protest, I understand you were not aware of her age or gender when you did that, and that she was about to drop you from the top of Stark Tower. Agent Larson told me. However, I think that being interrogated by the man who did that might make her unessesarily scared. I may not be the most maternal of women, but she may feel more comfortable talking to me. Stay in here and monitor, " With that, Maria stepped past Clint and through the door. Clint, realising she was right, grabbed a chair and sat at the desk that was situated against the wall, right in front of the one-way glass.

Maria blinked against the harsh, artificial light before walking briskly to the table and sitting down opposite the girl, carefully angling her body so she didn't obscure Clint's view. The girl didn't look up from her hands, but she became completely still. Clint continued to study the girl. He didn't feel like she was scared. To him, she seemed to be... well, he wasn't sure. She certainly wasn't relaxed, but she didn't look scared, or even nervous. She reminded him of a cat, ready to pounce - not moving, but muscles tightly coiled, ready to react in a split second. The girl ignored Maria, who was trying to coax the girl into talking, her voice low and soft in what Clint assumed was meant to be in a reassuring, motherly tone. For ten minutes, Maria talked to the girl, burning quickly through strategies to get the girl to talk. Clint could see Maria's patience slipping as the girl ignored her, until suddenly she slammed her hand on the table.

"Listen kid, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way." Maria hissed angrily. The girl didn't even flinch at Maria's sudden outburst. She slowly raised her eyes to look into Maria's, then leaned forward ever so slighlty, her gaze holding Maria's. 

"Do your worst." she challenged, her voice dangerously soft. She held Maria's gaze for a second longer, before sitting back and dropping her eyes back down to her hands. Maria stood up and briskly strode out of the room, back to the viewing room where Clint was sitting with his feet up on the desk. She sat down with a huff beside him, her eyes glancing disapprovingly at Clint's boots on the desk. 

"That went well." Clint smirked humourlessly. Maria glared at him sideways before casting her eyes back to the front.

"She's not going to talk. We've got nothing on her. No name, no parents, not even her age." She replied warily. Clint shrugged. 

"Well I guess it's my turn."